Life So Changed
by ccac2003
Summary: With the country on the brink of war, sixteen-year-old Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton finds herself far from home, only to discover that her very survival depends upon the kindness of the man she loathes.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note**: Thanks to ScarlettLovesRhett, BlaqueCat13, and Lara B. Caine for your kind words! You made me feel confident enough to post my more "serious" GWTW story. Read & review, please!_

Chapter 1

Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton stood at the Columbia platform gloomily, as though she were disembarking at the gates of Hell rather than the South Carolina capitol. Her green eyes dim, she observed the flurry of activity, people scurrying like frightened rabbits to catch trains to Charleston or Savannah. The gusty wind swept through her dark curls, nearly causing her fashionable bonnet to escape from its precarious spot atop her head. Her cheeks were brightened to a reddish hue, a stark contrast to the magnolia white of her complexion. For the most part, Scarlett had spent the train ride wishing that she were dead. Better dead than here, she groaned internally.

"Mrs. Hamilton, I presume?" a tall, slender grey-uniformed soldier bowed politely as he addressed her. "I'm Captain Preston Hampton. My father is Colonel Wade Hampton, the commander of your husband's regiment and my own."

Scarlett nodded and struggled valiantly against an approaching wave of nausea as the soldier kissed her hand.

"Captain Hamilton will be so comforted by his wife's presence. Our surgeon says that his case of measles is relatively mild, but just the same, several of our boys already died of it."

Died? Scarlett thought with a fresh horror. Suppose Charles actually died? That would leave her a widow, a fate even worse than the position in which she now found herself. She stilled the urge to bat her eyelashes prettily at the soldier; good looking as he was, she would not shame Charlie thus, especially since he was sick!

"How far away from the camp are we, sir?"

"You're not going to the camp, Mrs. Hamilton," Captain Hampton chuckled. "I wouldn't dream to subjecting a lady to our accommodations. Especially one as lovely as yourself."

This time, Scarlett could not resist his charm, and she said throatily, "you are too kind, Captain Hampton!"

Again the nausea reared its ugly head, and Scarlett clenched her slender hands together within the fullness of her wide taffeta skirt.

Sensing her discomfort, Captain Hampton grabbed her arm, steadying her should she faint.

"I'm so embarrassed," she said weakly, upturning her eyes toward the handsome officer's concerned face.

"You've endured a long journey, ma'am, combined with the worry I'm sure you've felt for Captain Hamilton."

Fiddle-dee-dee, Scarlett thought, I wasn't worried at all until you mentioned dying.

"Yes," she nodded vehemently. "When may I see Charlie?"

"I can take you to him immediately," Captain Hampton guided her to the waiting carriage and assisted her as she climbed in. "Captain Butler's plantation," he instructed the surly looking black coachman.

Scarlett's eyes widened and she groaned inwardly. "Excuse me, Captain Hampton…but…I do believe you said Captain Butler?"

"Indeed, Captain Matthew Butler. Are you acquainted already?"

Scarlett breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"No sir. No, I suppose I haven't met _that _Mr. Butler."

Captain Hampton nodded with understanding. "The Butler family is one of the finest in all South Carolina. They have roots all down the coast, although I believe the patriarch is firmly implanted in Charleston."

His face brightened momentarily as he remembered an interesting bit of news. He knew that ladies always were keen on society gossip, and was certain that a lady as young and pretty as Mrs. Hamilton could be no exception.

"If you've met any of the Charleston Butlers, I'm sure that you're a familiar of Miss Rosemary. Oh, she's the fairest girl in the entire state. Almost as pretty as you, if I may be so bold, Mrs. Hamilton."

Scarlett flashed him a look of wry amusement; she knew quite well that she looked quite absurd at the moment.

"Anyway, as I was saying, Miss Rosemary is engaged to be married to Lieutenant Luke Bonham of my own division…they're distant kin…but he's a nice fellow. Tad simple, perhaps, but nice. It's a pity that Miss Rosemary's brother has disgraced the family so. Fellow by the name of Rhett Butler. I could tell you stories about him that'd shock you, ma'am."

Scarlett suppressed another urge to vomit. Rhett Butler was the last person she wanted to hear about, especially since the wretched man had listened to her spill her guts to Ashley. She groaned again as her stomach heaved and thought that spilling guts was not the proper analogy due to her current situation. Oh well, Scarlett thought with a fresh relief, at least I won't have to worry about running into that varmint!

The increasing raindrops began to flow more heavily, and Captain Hampton grimaced as he peered out through the glass.

"Our boys won't be happy about this," he observed. "And we aren't even out of camp yet."

Scarlett's thoughts were returned back to the present and she replied, "but surely the war won't last much longer?'

The captain looked at her with a mixed expression of bemusement and pity. "Your men must have told you that it'd be over in a month."

"Well," Scarlett admitted, "that was the general consensus around the County."

"How long has Captain Hamilton been here? Let me think…five, six weeks?"

"Seven weeks." Scarlett said this automatically and with irritation. Charlie had made her a wife the second evening of their marriage; he'd been so miserably awkward about the whole thing that she'd had to pretend that she was sleeping with Ashley just to stomach the inglorious ordeal. He'd left her after a week, and Scarlett had been under the impression that her life would return to a semblance of normalcy. But then the twins had gone, along with Raiford and Cade Calvert, the Fontaines, and Ashley. That had been a mere two months ago.

Her pounding headache became a little more tolerable as she thought of handsome, blonde Ashley, and she entertained herself by imagining that she was visiting him instead of hapless, luckless Charlie. Imagine, she scoffed internally, getting sick before they've even seen battle!

Prior to her departure, Mammy had made a discovery which Scarlett herself had failed to notice. Her monthly courses, once constant as the stars in the Georgia sky, had ceased completely, and her normally ravenous appetite had dwindled considerably. When Mammy had set her down to inform her of the impending situation, Scarlett had howled and screamed about the indignity of it all, then had begged and pleaded with Mammy not to tell her mother. Scarlett then took the initiative to think very clearly about her options, which were few in number and equally unappealing. She could sojourn to Atlanta to have the wretched thing with Melanie standing over her like a clucking chicken or she could stay at Tara and not set foot out of the house until her time was complete.

With the inevitable conclusion of the ruination of her life so close at hand, the letter from Captain Hampton informing them of Charles's illness was nothing short of divine intervention. Scarlett's father had been so very agreeable due to the twin delights of the thrill of war and seeing his pet so happily married that he thought it quite natural and appropriate that she go to Columbia and nurse her husband back to health herself. Her mother, on the other hand, had thought it vastly unsuitable, and begged for Scarlett to reconsider. Measles wasn't all that serious, Ellen had explained, and Charles was a strong young man.

Scarlett had begun to pace restlessly then and her eyes brimmed over with tears, some real and some created by long years of perfecting the art; in the end, Ellen had finally agreed and Mammy had held her tongue. Scarlett was privately certain that the old devil just wanted to keep her away from Ashley, and was happy to see her anywhere but Atlanta, where he would certainly be. Under strict instruction from her mother to see Charlie well and come straight back, Scarlett had been given the greatest gift she could have possibly wished for: time. As the inevitable event drew closer and closer, she would no longer be able to hide it. Already her stays were uncomfortably tight. Even her own body felt as if it were no longer under her control. Indeed, however far away he might be by now, Ashley was the only constant thing left to her.

Even Ashley is lost to me now, she mused internally. Never again would he squire her to County fish fries and barbeques, nor would she be able to visit Twelve Oaks and blissfully sit on the settee while he played the pianoforte, listening to him in worshipful adoration. No, she had signed away her rights to Ashley when she became Mrs. Charles Hamilton, and now, the _thing _that was slowly taking over her body would eat away the rest of her life as well. She sighed loudly. Things were already awful enough; surely Charlie couldn't make them even worse by dying?

"Do many men die of measles, Captain Hampton?"

The captain blushed slightly, feeling rather guilty that he'd been relaying society gossip when this poor fair creature was clearly terribly concerned over her husband.

"Not usually," he said gently. "But its easy to catch. Lots of the boys have it. Captain Hamilton's was getting bad enough for the doctor to move him up to the big house, just a precaution."

"Precaution from what?" Scarlett asked with wide eyes.

"Pneumonia, mostly," Captain Hampton toyed with his cap and again peered out the window. "We're nearly there, ma'am. Mrs. Butler's hospitality is renowned throughout the state; you won't lack for anything."

"That was very kind of her to take Charles in," Scarlett said with long rehearsed politeness.

"I'm not sure that you're aware, Mrs. Hamilton, of how famous a military family you've married into. Colonel Hugh Hamilton, your husband's father, was a hero in the Mexican war, as was his brother, Admiral Will Hamilton. All that to say, ma'am, any member of the Hamilton family is automatically accorded especial respect."

Scarlett nodded, bored with the family history lesson.

"Ah!" Captain Hampton murmured. "That's it, the lovely Rose Hill."

Scarlett endured another painful jolt within her already sour stomach as the carriage stopped suddenly. The carriage door was opened from the outside and Captain Hampton disembarked first, then gallantly offered her his arm.

"At least the weather's cleared up," he said cheerfully. "I won't be greeted to a load of wet, rioting troops when I return to camp."

"Where is the camp?" Scarlett asked, seeing no sign of one.

"Five miles down the road. We've only now began to separate the volunteers into units. Captain Butler has a division, as do I. Captain Hamilton is my direct subordinate; he'll have his own division too once he regains his health and we've fought a battle or two."

"I thought that we were supposed to be finished after one battle!" Scarlett cried, unconsciously clasping a hand over her abdomen.

Captain Hampton attempted to reassure her, but she saw his eyes move to another target.

"Miss Butler," he called pleasantly, motioning for her to join them. "And Mrs. Butler, of course."

The two ladies made Scarlett feel instantly self-conscious and painfully aware that she was no longer the belle of the County.

Mrs. Butler was small and petite, with lovely auburn curls which threatened to escape from her loose chignon. Atop her head she wore a lovely hat embroidered with tiny silk flowers. The younger lady caught Scarlett's attention immediately. Too dark-skinned to be considered a belle, Miss Butler's hair was as dark as Scarlett's own, if not darker, although her eyes were a startling shade of blue. Her eyes sparkled impishly as they appraised Scarlett in her plain black taffeta.

"Mrs. Hamilton, may I present Mrs. Amelia Butler, our fair hostess, and her niece, Miss Rosemary Butler of Charleston."

Rosemary's fine brows puckered prettily as she observed Scarlett with feigned confusion. "Your maiden name wouldn't happen to be O'Hara, would it, Mrs. Hamilton?"

Scarlett chafed uneasily, thinking that Rhett Butler had probably spread what he had witnessed between her and Ashley around the entire state.

"It would," she answered in a small voice.

"I thought so," Rosemary smiled broadly. "Auntie, may I take Mrs. Hamilton to see her husband?"

Mrs. Butler nodded absently in consent and began to address Captain Hampton, who bowed as the two younger ladies departed.

Rosemary took Scarlett's arm and guided her into the expansive house. It put Tara to shame, Scarlett had to admit. A large porcelain clock stood at the top of the grand staircase, surrounded by portraits of dark-haired, rakish looking men in uniform and women as swarthy faced as Miss Butler herself.

"My grandmamma," she pointed out the central portrait in the artfully adorned room, which hung above the marble mantle.

Scarlett appraised the portrait, thinking that the subject looked more akin to a courtesan than a lady of quality.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you, Mrs. Hamilton. My brother told me all about you! When your husband took sick a few weeks ago, I had hoped you might come; and I'm very glad you did…" Rosemary's voice trailed off as Scarlett burst into tears.

Her blue eyes widened. "Oh, how horrible I am, bothering you with chitchat when you want to see your husband. Oh please don't cry, Mrs. Hamilton, please!"

Scarlett furiously wiped her tears, not really knowing why they had come, but blaming it on the _thing_, the source of the rest of her miseries. Her shame of what Rosemary Butler had no doubt heard about her was too much to bear at the moment, along with everything else, and she swayed on her feet and blinked against a wave of dizziness.

"Mrs. Hamilton! Are you sure you're alright? Mrs. Hamilton!"

A wave of nausea sweeping over her, Scarlett could almost make out a tall, black silhouette of a man swooping over her, catching her as she fell.

She blinked again as the noxious odor of the smelling salts filled her sensitive nostrils. Coughing loudly, she sat up gingerly on the settee and stared up at Rosemary's concerned face.

"Poor thing!" she cooed. "I'm just glad Rhett was here to catch you!" Scarlett rubbed her eyes again, blinking as she made out a hazy figure perched insolently at the other end of the settee with a look of amusement upon his face. Her gaze flashed between the brother and sister, and she noted the strong familial resemblance. It was clear that Rosemary was several, perhaps even ten, years his junior. He wore no jacket and his white shirt was unbuttoned to the chest, exposing his shockingly bronzed skin. He looked rakish and ready to pounce, but she could observe his muscular frame and taut body, and, to her arch embarrassment, she could appreciate it.

"Good afternoon, Miss O'Hara. Or excuse me, Mrs. Hamilton! My apologies." His words were softened by the subtle drawl so characteristic of an aristocratic, Coastal upbringing, something she had not noted in their first meeting. By contrast, Rosemary's uniquely raspy voice held a stiltedly refined accent that was slightly less pleasing than her brother's.

"Mr. Butler, we meet again," Scarlett attempted to sit up gracefully. "I do declare that I'm surprised to see you here. I was under the impression that-"

"That I wasn't received in polite society?" Rhett smiled broadly, revealing a set of even white teeth. "Well, you assumed correctly, Mrs. Hamilton. However, my esteemed Aunt and Uncle on whose settee you are now resting felt that my disinheritance was a rather trifling matter, so I am welcomed here. Nowhere else, I assure you. I wouldn't want my reputation as a blackguard to be undone in any way."

"You're such a fool, Rhett!" Rosemary giggled playfully. "Mrs. Hamilton isn't interested in you in the slightest and you're flirting with her like a schoolboy."

"Hmm. She's married to a schoolboy. Perhaps I'm doing a fair imitation of her husband."

"Rhett!" Rosemary smacked his arm. "How can you make jokes when her husband is ill?"

Scarlett couldn't decide if she liked Rosemary taking up for her or not, but either way, she was going to be sick again soon and the last thing in the world she wanted was to be sick in front of Rhett Butler.

"If I may," she said more weakly than she would have liked, "I would appreciate a wash. Before I see Charlie."

"Of course!" Rosemary's face brimmed with understanding. "Your husband is terribly sweet, he's been so worried about being a bother. Let me show you upstairs, dear Mrs. Hamilton." She flashed her eyes angrily at Rhett. "I apologize on behalf of my brother for his rotten behavior. It's no wonder he isn't received."

"Mrs. Hamilton will forgive me," Rhett said, his voice sugar sweet. "We have rather a lot in common, all things considered."

"You're vile!" Rosemary scolded.

"Allow me to carry you to your chambers, Madam," Rhett scooped up Scarlett despite her protests. "Never fear, sister, I'll deposit her in bed and then leave immediately."

Scarlett struggled momentarily and then settled within his strong arms as he walked up the stairs. Again, her stomach lurched and she put a hand to her mouth and groaned in agony.

"Did you eat something distasteful?" Rhett said conversationally.

"No." Scarlett spat out, wiping her mouth violently.

"No? Something even more distasteful, perhaps?"

"You're vile," she muttered weakly.

"I'm just teasing you. And I've been around enough women to recognize the symptoms."

"Of course you have," she retorted.

He responded with a fresh burst of laughter. "Does my reputation precede me as far as Clayton County, then? I daresay, Mrs. Hamilton, I had no idea that my misdeeds had earned me such notoriety. But really, I am curious…you couldn't have had more than a week or two after our last meeting in which to get yourself both married and in the family way. I didn't think that sad-eyed boy had it in him…unless you finally prevailed over poor old Ashley…"

She glowered at him as she caught his meaning.

"I'll thank you to put me down now!" she snapped as they reached the top of the steps. "Now which room is mine?"

"Next to mine," he said flirtatiously.

"You are horrible!" she cried. "And I don't know what sort of lies you've spread about me but-"

"Lies? Ha! Believe me, darling, the charming scene I witnessed in the Wilkes's library was not worth repeating. The ladies in my acquaintance would hope for more scandalous gossip…now if I told them that you offered yourself to me after Mister Wilkes's poetic rejection, then we might have something-"

"How dare you?" she shrilled, causing him to wince.

"Easy, Mrs. Hamilton, you'll upset yourself and you'll miscarry and it'll be all blamed on me. My reputation is already shattered enough as it is!"

"Good," she scoffed, blinking back tears. "I wish _it _would go away."

His dark eyes fixed upon her and his mouth softened. "You're just a little girl underneath it all, aren't you, Mrs. Hamilton? Well, I suppose I owe you an apology. Truce?"

She looked at him with hatred spelled plainly on her face. "And you promise you won't tell?"

"On my honor," he winked broadly and extended his large palm, which she took wearily. "Now, go wash up and try to rest. Mr. Hamilton's in quite a bit of pain and I'm sure it will be of no difference if you visit him now or later this evening."

Rhett bowed deeply, and Scarlett wordlessly entered the small bedroom that had been prepared for her. All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep. As she fell asleep on the featherbed, she attempted to bring Ashley's face to mind; and yet, the picture she formed quickly faded into strong arms holding her tightly against a stalwart chest…


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note**__: Thank you to all who reviewed the previous chapter. Obviously this story is slightly AU, although I plan on keeping all of Scarlett's major milestones (the three husbands and the children from each). To saragwtw, I've always thought that one of Scarlett's greatest tragedies was the fact that she became a mother at 16, with no support system to speak of, and I've wondered how her life would have been different if she had a 'choice' with regard to having Wade. All the feedback I get is valued and appreciated! _

Chapter 2

"Mrs. Hamilton? Scarlett? Are you sure that you're alright?"

Scarlett was still very much in a daze and barely made out that the words were coming from the mouth of Rosemary Butler, who stood at the doorway. Rosemary hesitated only a moment more before taking a seat at the end of Scarlett's bed. Concern was written all over her face and she declared, "you're not well at all! If this keeps up, we'll need to summon the doctor for you instead of Mr. Hamilton."

Scarlett shook her head and turned her face toward the window.

"I'm fine," she protested, then as if on command, her stomach began to roil strangely.

"Rhett was very concerned," Rosemary pressed.

"He's a low down, common…" Scarlett's voice trailed off as she recalled whom she was addressing.

Rosemary only smiled. "He _is _a rotten sort. But I do love him, and he does mean well. And he was very strict in his instruction that I see to your wellbeing."

"I'm fine!"

"You're with child, Scarlett! That's not a shameful position for a married woman to find herself in."

Scarlett folded her arms across her midsection and grudgingly met Rosemary's startling blue eyes, which blazed with mischief.

"Why ever did you try to hide it?"

"Nobody from home knows yet," Scarlett sighed loudly. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Really, Scarlett, you could have spared yourself the trouble. Oh poor thing, I know you were concerned about your husband, but you shouldn't have risked your health by traveling."

"I didn't think much about it," Scarlett protested forlornly.

"That much is obvious," Rosemary scoffed. "I assume that you hadn't written Mr. Hamilton to tell him of your condition before his illness."

"No."

"Well? Don't you think that you should tell him?"

Scarlett looked up at Rosemary with widened eyes.

"Where is he?"

"Come on, I'll take you to him." Rosemary held out her arm for Scarlett. Observing her as she stood up, Rosemary laughed aloud. "You aren't showing yet, dear. No wonder you haven't told anyone. Just wait though; you won't be able to draw your laces in a few weeks."

"My stays are already loose," Scarlett moaned.

Rosemary gave her a sympathetic look. "I wouldn't want to bring a baby into the world with the war on."

Scarlett scoffed internally as she followed Rosemary to the end of the hallway. Nor would I, she thought, but I suppose I don't have much of a choice at this point!

"I'll let you have some privacy," Rosemary said softly, urging Scarlett on. She was hesitant in her footing; her legs felt as though they were made of lead. What would Charlie look like? After five weeks apart, she wasn't even sure that she remembered him.

It took all of Scarlett's determination to enter Charlie's sickroom, and she braced herself for whatever waited for her there; after all, it was the least she could do to make sure that he was alright. If nothing else, perhaps seeing him would ease her worries somewhat.

She eased the door open and found her husband sprawled on his back with an arm folded over his eyes.

"Charlie…?" Scarlett said softly, moving hesitantly toward the bed. His lack of response compelled her to reach out and touch him, if only to ascertain that he was indeed breathing. His face was unshaven, although she could see under his patchy beard a mass of raised red splotches upon his face. The redness spread down his throat and chest, possibly lower, though he was thankfully covered by the modesty cloth of sorts.

Charles was mumbling incoherently to himself by the time she reached him. He looked strangely at Scarlett as she awkwardly fumbled for a cup of water by his bedside and attempted to press it to his swollen lips.

"Charlie?" she tried again, feeling completely overwhelmed. She tried to think about what her mother would have done. Hurriedly bidding the boy in the hallway to fetch her a basin of water and fresh linens, she began to speak what she assumed were soothing, calming words. Charlie's brown eyes were glazed with fever, but they focused on her face as she spoke to him.

"You're beautiful," he managed to choke out. "An angel."

"Hush, Charlie," Scarlett ordered. "It's me, Charlie. It's Scarlett."

With a muffled cry, Charlie's head flew upright from his pillow, flinging away the hand which rested upon his cheek. Scarlett backed away from the bed hastily and fled from the room. Somehow she managed to walk down the long hallway without stumbling and with all the dignity that she could muster. Why had she come? She moved past the chattering house servants, her distress intensifying. Where was her room? If she could only make it back…everything would be alright and she could sleep away the memory of Charlie's disfigured face.

In her unhappiness and haste, Scarlett managed to walk directly past the man who observed her enter another room with hooded, dark eyes. With a broken sob, Scarlett threw herself upon the bed and began to wail loudly. It was all too much for her to endure. First losing Ashley to mealy-mouthed Melanie, then the hasty marriage to Charlie, then the war, and now the _thing _and Charlie's illness…she poured her heart out into the soft pillow, a rush of emotion overcoming her as she gave herself up to it.

Soothingly, a large hand began to stroke her back.

"That's it. Let it all out, honey."

Wiping her eyes frantically, Scarlett sat up and met the gaze of the man who sat on the bed next to her.

"What are you doing here? Don't you dare touch me!"

"My apologies, Madam. I was merely concerned by all the noise coming from my bedroom."

"Yours?"

"Indeed. I did warn you that mine was directly next to yours."

She pulled away from him with an outraged huff. "You really do have no decency, Mr. Butler!"

He laughed aloud and flashed another broad grin. "In my defense, you were in _my_ room. Now if I were lurking about in _yours_…"

"Oh, you're impossible!"

"Now, tell me why you've been carrying on so. My sister said that you went to see Mr. Hamilton. Was your visit unsatisfactory?"

Startled by the realization that he had both heard her tears and questioned his sister about her activities, she stared up at him confusedly. "Do you do this to every lady in your acquaintance? If so, it's no wonder you're not received."

Again he laughed loudly. "My dear, you are an original. I believe that's why I take such an interest in you. But I truly am sorry that you had to observe Mr. Hamilton in such a condition."

"He didn't even know me!" Scarlett cried. "What if he dies, and then I'm here and alone and then…it's just so…"

"Indeed, it would have been far safer just to accept his proposal without actually going through with the wedding. That way you would have been at liberty to love Mr. Wilkes at your leisure all the while maintaining a respectable front."

"Stop it! Stop it; I don't want to hear it!"

"Don't shout, Mrs. Hamilton. There, there."

"Don't talk to me like that," she muttered dejectedly.

"I'm sorry. I am. I've been too long away from respectable people, and I do forget that you're rather delicate. You're not going to miscarry, are you?"

"You're impossible!"

"Even so, I'd rather not have that on my conscience. My sister would never forgive me."

"Your sister doesn't even know me."

"She was familiar with you by my own description. When I returned from Jonesboro last month, I informed my sister that I had been acquainted with a young lady who was as unfitting of the term as she; a rare feat, Mrs. Hamilton. And then I heard that poor Mr. Hamilton was terribly ill and I had to hope that our paths might cross again. But I must say that I did not anticipate you sojourning all this way alone and in your condition."

Her aloofness was unswerving and her answer a recitation out of a handbook for young ladies. "My place is at my husband's side."

"Your husband of what, a whopping seven weeks?" Rhett stifled a chuckle as he observed a fresh wave of tears falling down her face.

"Well, cheer up; I have some good news for you, my dear. Your precious Ashley Wilkes is a member of Colonel Cobb's legion, and they are set to rendezvous right here in Columbia with Colonel Hampton's forces in order to back up General Lee in Virginia."

"Ashley will be coming here?" Scarlett stopped as she caught herself unguarded.

"Ah, I knew that would warrant a smile. If you're lucky, Mr. Hamilton will still be ill at that time and you can steal a private moment or two with Mr. Wilkes. My aunt and uncle have a lovely library that I'm sure they wouldn't mind sparing for an hour or two…"

Scarlett rose dramatically from the bed, her face aghast. "You promised that-"

"That I would say nothing to anyone," Rhett smirked, "and I haven't, Mrs. Hamilton. But I'll be damned if I let you live it down while your torch is still burning for your brother-in-law. Call me your conscience."

"You make me sick."

"I believe that your particular sickness is the fault of Mr. Hamilton."

"I hate you!"

"Really?" he smirked. "I hadn't noticed. So, if I may ask, what is your plan? After all, Mr. Hamilton will presumably recover and go off to Virginia with Ashley and the rest of the fools…You won't be able to hide it the entire summer."

"I'll think about that tomorrow."

"And the next day, and the next," he grinned as he swooped her up easily in his strong arms. "But sweet Mrs. Hamilton, you're going to have a child at the end of it all…I suppose you could simply follow the army around while you're biding your time."

Her eyes brightened momentarily. "Could I? Oh, you're teasing me. You're very cruel, Mr. Butler."

"You'll stop it nothing to follow Ashley, won't you? I daresay you'd enlist if you could; that way you could share a tent!"

Footsteps approaching the door brought both of their attentions to the figure at the threshold. Rosemary was standing there, her arms crossed. Though she looked past her brother, she worriedly set her gaze upon Scarlett, who was again in the precarious position of being cradled within his arms.

"I told you to leave her alone, you skunk."

"Your eyes are deceiving you, Sis. Mrs. Hamilton was distressed and wandered into my room instead of her own. I was just getting ready to return her to her own bed."

"Oh Rhett, must every word out of your mouth be an innuendo? Besides, Mr. Hamilton has regained consciousness. He's most anxious to see his wife, if she's able."

Scarlett fidgeted out of Rhett's arms, and flashed him a dirty look for placing her in such a compromising position.

"Thank you, Miss Butler. I'll see Charlie directly."

Rosemary nodded and started to turn away, but gave her brother one long, lingering stare. Rhett acknowledged her silent threat with a nod of his own head. His sister had a formed an unquestioning bond of loyalty to the other woman, and she was warning him to treat her better and with more care.

"Mrs. Hamilton?" he called as she turned to leave. "My best wishes to Captain Hamilton."

Scarlett nodded, musing about how easily they had conversed; he was vile, Rhett Butler, and yet, he was so infinitely charming. She winced at the thought, for it only confirmed what he had been saying the entire time she had known him, that she was not a lady at all. And yet, as she followed Rosemary down the hall to Charlie's room, she flashed one last lingering glance in the direction of Mr. Butler, all the while wondering if some peculiar affliction had stricken her and rendered her incapable of picturing Ashley's face at all within her mind…


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note**__: Thank you to all the reviewers for your thoughtful and helpful comments. Let me first answer the most common question, regarding Charles's illness. He's had the measles for at least two weeks, so they've run their course as far as being contagious; however, his case of measles had gone into pneumonia as it did in the book. As far as a pregnant Scarlett being around him: Yes it is contagious, but it is LESS contagious than most people think. The pneumonia part of the illness down in the lungs is far less contagious than the measles would have been when he was first infected. People who are exposed to someone with pneumonia may catch the normal cough and cold symptoms of the virus, but it usually doesn't progress to pneumonia. The formation of the pneumonia is not determined by the particular cold virus or bacteria that the person has, but rather by each person's susceptibility in their own lungs. Therefore, just because Charlie has pneumonia and a high fever, it does NOT mean everyone else in the vicinity has or will have pneumonia as well (including the other soldiers who had come down with measles). As Scarlett's as healthy as a horse at this point (morning sickness aside); I think she's fairly safe. Again, thank you, thank you, thank you, for your comments. It does wonders to hear that one's work is appreciated! _

Chapter 3

The next ten days passed by in agonizing slowness. At times, Charlie would recognize her and was well aware that she or Rosemary were tending to him. He would eat and take the medicine provided by the surgeon without complaint, but then his fever would spike and he would fade into some delirious state in which he would cry out for his mother and father.

Whatever hesitation Scarlett had suffered upon the occasion of her wedding night at the idea of looking upon Charlie's body had been long set aside, as she realized that he needed bathing and it would be inappropriate for any of the other ladies to do it while she was present. So she did it; she handled his body as tenderly as possible, and she had almost vanquished the temptation to pretend that it was Ashley upon whom she was tending. In an effort to strengthen Charlie before the army departed for Virginia, Scarlett and Rosemary set upon a course of care which required one of them to force some sort of liquid down his throat whenever he was conscious, which could be at any time of day or night. Scarlett herself waited on him as efficiently as a well-practiced nursemaid, and had to be shooed by Rosemary when she had remained at his bedside for twelve hours straight.

Captain Hampton came down to the big house frequently to see if there had been any change and offering his services should they require anything. Even Rhett Butler hovered about the doorway when the doctor came to examine Charles, and was whispering solemnly to his uncle as the doctor departed.

He's not going to die, Scarlett declared to herself; I'm not going to let him die and leave me a widow!

For the next day and night, Scarlett kept her vigil as faithfully as a mother watching over her own sick child. Charlie was still raving on and on in disjointed sentences which Scarlett could not understand. She was leaning over him and reapplying a freshly wet cloth to his brow when his he drew his breath in sharply and seized her arm with surprising strength for a man who had been so very ill. A smile split his face and he drew her down close to him.

"You're still here. I wasn't dreaming."

"No, Charlie," she sighed as she attempted to pry his fingers away from her wrist. "I'm still here."

He began to cough loudly, which caused her stomach to churn. Her attempts to cover her mouth seemed to amuse him greatly.

"I thought that I would die," he rasped. "I thought that I was going to die here, before we ever saw battle. And I would have, too. If you hadn't come."

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Charlie! You're sick, but you'll be alright."

"You're beautiful," he crooned again.

"Charles Hamilton!" she shushed him as she pressed a cup of water to his swollen lips. "Drink!"

A flush of color overcame his face as she sponged him off; he was only just becoming aware of his partial nudity.

"Clothes?" he choked.

"Hush, won't you?" she scolded gently as she continued her duty. "Can you take another sip of water?"

He nodded, his big brown eyes glowing as she drew the cup to his mouth and wiped the droplets of water from his beard.

"Have you been here all this time?"

"I came as soon as Colonel Hampton's letter reached me," Scarlett said truthfully, "I was worried."

"Without an escort?" he fretted.

"Oh Charlie! I'm here, aren't I? Aren't you glad to see me?"

He sighed loudly, not having wanted to upset her. "Of course I am. I was just surprised…that and…I didn't particularly want you to see me this way."

"Charlie, you're ill. It happens."

"In sickness and in health, eh, Mrs. Hamilton?" Rosemary entered without knocking and took her place opposite Scarlett. "How are you, Captain Hamilton? I heard Scarlett conversing with someone and I'm very glad that it's you."

"Miss Butler," Charles said weakly, "I remember now where I am. I suppose that was you so kindly tending me when I first arrived?"

"Yes it was," Rosemary winked at him. "You called me Melanie, I believe. It's quite alright, Captain Hamilton, you were in no condition to assume that I was anyone but your most beloved sister. Its alright, don't think a thing about it."

"I am most grateful," he muttered weakly.

"You are most welcome," Rosemary asserted, her eyes meeting Scarlett's as she expertly felt his forehead. "Now then, Captain, I believe that you can rest comfortably now that your fever has broken. Scarlett and I will leave you to your rest. You have such a devoted wife, Captain Hamilton, she's scarcely been able to keep down a thing since she arrived."

Scarlett flashed Rosemary an irritated glance as she sauntered out of the room prettily.

"Sleep well, Charlie," she smoothed his bangs away from his face.

Charles's eyes were already closing, but he possessed enough strength to again reach for her hand as she departed. His dry, cracked lips formed the words, which he could not annunciate but which she understood perfectly. "Thank you."

As she closed the door behind her, she heard soft footfalls traversing down the grand staircase, followed by an excited squeal emerging from the parlor below.

She was met by the eagle eyes of Rosemary's Mammy, a hard-faced woman with a tongue as sharp as her own Mammy-perhaps all Mammy's were alike-and Scarlett was privately certain that the woman had discerned for herself her condition.

"Miz Roze say yuh husband bettah."

"Yes, thank you, Captain Hamilton is much better today," Scarlett smiled coquettishly, thinking that surely this woman would respond to her fine manners.

"Hmmph," the woman strode past Scarlett and into her own quarters. Scarlett made a face as she descended the stairs, holding tightly to the handrail. She paused at the top; startled at the sight of her refection in the oval-shaped gilded mirror. Her hair was pathetically flat, her bangs were laying limply across her face. Her cheeks were absolutely gaunt, and her thickly lashed eyes looked enormous. Casting a weary glance down at her midsection, she wondered if it was becoming noticeable. She noticed it, for certain. The thing had moved within her the night before, as though it wanted to remind her of its presence.

"Scarlett!" the now familiar raspy female voice roused her from her trance. "Come down here, darling!"

Dismally, Scarlett cast one last glance at her reflection, hoping that no one of importance was awaiting her downstairs. Rosemary and that insufferable brother of hers she could handle, but she was not of the inclination to receive any others.

A noisy clamor was filling the foyer which led to the parlor, and Scarlett hastily gathered her hair back into its pins and attempted to straighten her dress, hoping that it was at least serviceable.

Before she herself could enter the room, Rosemary burst through the arched doorway of the parlor, her arm interlocked with that of a laughing man; the pair was followed by a tall figure who seemed rather appalled by their easy intimacy.

"Scarlett, my dear," Rosemary collected herself after a moment. "This is my betrothed, Lieutenant Luke Bonham."

Lieutenant Bonham was a freckle-faced young man, not particularly handsome by Scarlett's standards, but clearly possessing the fine attributes common to most men of quality. He was shorter than either Ashley or Charles, his head barely topping Rosemary's, and yet, he was strong and powerfully built.

"I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Hamilton," he extricated his arm from Rosemary's as he bobbed his head politely. "Colonel Hampton thinks a lot of your husband, ma'am. Rosie tells me he's on the mend."

Rosemary elbowed her fiancé. "Don't call me Rosie, you idiot."

"Sorry, Sugar." Lieutenant Bonham winked. "Oh shucks, where are my manners. Mrs. Hamilton, of course, you already know Captain Wilkes."

Scarlett felt her knees go weak as she met Ashley's eyes. She hadn't even seen him skulking at the parlor door. His hair seemed darker than it had the day he had departed the County and he had grown a full beard. His eyes were darkly translucent, and oddly aloof.

"Ashley!" Scarlett cried, almost wanting to sob at the sight of him.

"I am glad to hear that Charles is recovered," Ashley said formally.

Rosemary cast a pointed look at Scarlett, and spoke to Lieutenant Bonham. "Let's take a walk, dear. I'm sure that Scarlett wishes to converse privately with her brother-in-law before he's forced to return to his regiment."

Ashley bowed deeply. "Thank you, Miss Butler, for all of your family's kindness and hospitality."

"Not at all," Rosemary's cheeks took on a sparkled hue, "Captain Wilkes, I must insist that you return here this evening for dinner. Colonel Hampton will be here, as well as General Beauregard. You are most welcome."

"Thank you," Ashley said politely, his voice somber. "I shall be delighted."

With a final wave at Scarlett, Rosemary dragged her handsome stalwart out the front door, leaving Scarlett alone with Ashley.

"You're looking well, Mrs. Hamilton," Ashley said.

"Oh Ashley, don't be so…" Scarlett's voice trailed off as she recalled the circumstances of their last private meeting. She had told him she loved him and he had told her that he was going to marry Melanie. The beginning of the end, she thought ruefully. "Ashley, there's no need to be formal. You've called me by my name as long as I can remember; please don't stop now."

As he stared at her, she became lost within his eyes, thinking that they were perhaps the most beautiful in the entire world.

"Thank you, Scarlett," he said sincerely, breaking the spell.

She mentally scolded herself for behaving like an dazzled schoolgirl. Just like Mr. Butler predicted, she thought.

"Melanie wrote to inform me of Charles's illness. I would have come earlier, but we were encamped and waiting for the Zouave volunteers to arrive from Louisiana."

"How did you know that we'd be here?"

"It was Rhett Butler who sent word to Lieutenant Bonham that Charles was gravely ill and that his wife had taken it upon herself to come to him."

"And what else did he say?" Scarlett asked with a sense of dread.

"Nothing," Ashley said coolly. "He was very kind, to see that Charles was so well cared for."

"He really is a nasty fellow," Scarlett rambled, thinking that perhaps Ashley was jealous of Rhett. "He's a dreadful flirt, and he's so very fast."

"So I've heard; but he's been nothing but good to do what he's done."

"Have you had to travel very far, Ashley?" Scarlett attempted to revert the conversation away from Rhett and Charles and back to Ashley himself.

"Not nearly as far as you might think, Scarlett…" the tension seemed to leave him slightly as he talked of the army, his men, and of course, the impending battle.

"It'll happen within the month; that's what they've told us. Mr. Lincoln is eager for the Union to make the preemptive strike, and that will presumably occur somewhere in Virginia, which is why we're making haste to reinforce General Lee's forces."

"Will Charlie leave too?" Scarlett asked aloud.

"Yes," Ashley nodded. "If he's able, then he'll go too."

"What about me?" Scarlett replied with a noticeable shiver.

If Ashley had been shrewd, he would have noted the way her hands fell protectively against her stomach, but he only continued. "You must go home, Scarlett. You mustn't stay here without invitation after Charles leaves, and you certainly can't go with us to Virginia. Your parents will be worried sick about you as it is."

"Pa wanted me to come," Scarlett protested.

Ashley sighed. "I need to know that you're safely at home, away from danger. Will you do that for me, Scarlett?"

"Yes, Ashley," she met his eyes, her sense of wifely duty momentarily forgotten.

"Thank you," he said throatily, bringing her shaking hand to his lips and kissing it. For a moment, she thought that she observed a flash of desire in his eyes. Did he still love her as she did him?

Her heart pounded frantically as his lips touched her flesh. Then, as if in protest, the _thing _moved abruptly within her. It caught her totally by surprise, and she pulled away from him, pressing her hand against her stomach. Barely an instant passed before she remembered herself, and she returned her gaze to him, thinking frantically that she had betrayed her secret.

Ashley's eyes were turned toward the floor, as though he wanted to sink into it.

"You're stronger than I am, Scarlett."

"What?" she said tentatively. Had he truly not seen?

"I could have very easily succumbed to ungentlemanly conduct. I am very, very sorry, my dear."

"Oh Ashley," Scarlett nearly sobbed. "It was nothing at all, it's just…Ashley, Ashley, look at me."

He did look at her, a ravaged look of penitence on his face. "I'll see you this evening, Scarlett. I promise to have a hold on myself. Please give Charles my best."

Later that day, Rosemary was knocking loudly on Scarlett's door and giving her a hurried account of the soldiers recently arrived, with her own Lieutenant Bonham featuring almost exclusively in her tale.

"You look so peaky, Scarlett," Rosemary chided. "You're not still feeling ill?"

"No," Scarlett answered truthfully. "It's not been so bad lately."

"I thought that your visit with Captain Wilkes would lift your spirits, in truth I did," Rosemary grabbed her hands with fresh vigor. "If I made you sad by asking Luke to bring him…I did, didn't I? I'm so stupid; why ever did I listen to Rhett?"

Scarlett burst into tears, and Rosemary began to laugh. "Darling, Scarlett. Darling. What is it?"

Scarlett's lip was quivering dangerously. "I can't get into any of my evening dresses."

Rosemary's face alighted in understanding. "Well, then we shall have to remedy that. I'll be back momentarily."

She returned in less than five minutes holding a large box in her hands which could only contain a dress. She was trailed doggedly by her Mammy, who was muttering curses.

"Whatever is that, Rosemary?" Scarlett sat up in bed.

"Your gown, my lady," Rosemary curtsied with a flourish.

"Thaz yah Auntie's gown, dat is!" the old woman growled.

"I'll thank you to hush your mouth," Rosemary ordered. "Now, Scarlett, Auntie Amelia was delivered of a baby girl just last year. My uncle was a senator before we succeeded, so her public presence was necessary for quite some time before it was too obvious to hide."

"Ah's gwine speak t'yah Auntie 'bout dis!"

"You're just ornery because Rhett likes her so well. You're quite the hypocrite, Mammy."

"White trash chile don' 'serve mah Rhett."

"Heaven help the woman who does deserve your precious Rhett, Mammy. And if you're not going to help me, leave, you meddlesome fool!" Rosemary shrilled. "Stand up, Scarlett. Take off that horrid taffeta and burn it. It hurts my eyes to see you in black."

Scarlett did so, and unbuttoned the high collar of her gown, enabling her to breathe easier. The corset wasn't even laced, so she slid out of that easily, leaving her only in her shimmy.

"Fo' shame." Rosemary's Mammy shook her head. "Out in 'ciety while she wi' chile."

"Shut up, won't you!" Rosemary growled. "Arms up, Scarlett. Mammy, don't just stand there, see to her laces."

Scarlett allowed Rosemary to dress her for the next half an hour, pausing only to take in a glance of herself in the vanity by her bed. The rich amethyst-toned dress had been designed with a longer bodice, thereby concealing the curve of her stomach, the beaded silk skirt gently gathered beneath it. The neckline was low, but not so much so that it looked common or trashy.

"Thank heaven you're out of that black hideousness." Rosemary looked appraisingly upon her work. "Your skin is lovely in that color. I'm very envious of your complexion. She looks like Maria, does she not, Mammy?"

"Hmmph," the woman chortled.

"That means yes," Rosemary giggled.

"Who is Maria?" Scarlett inquired politely.

"My sister," Rosemary said with a trace of sorrow within her voice. "She was very beautiful, you see, and she died. She died several years ago, far too soon."

"I'm very sorry," Scarlett said sincerely.

"She had your features. Lovely magnolia skin and hair like silk." Rosemary skillfully dressed Scarlett's hair high upon her head to better show off the exquisite pearl earbobs which she had insisted upon her wearing.

"I couldn't!" Scarlett protested.

"You must!" Rosemary kissed her cheek. "I already feel like we have been friends forever. And whatever are friends for, besides making their friends look radiant in the presence of handsome gallants? Besides, I have another surprise for you this very night."

"You are filled with secrets, Rosemary!" Scarlett laughed aloud with pleasure.

Rosemary's smiling eyes dipped towards her friend's ever more noticeable belly. "No more than you, my dear."

Nightfall arrived, and Scarlett took special pains with her appearance, knowing that she would not only have to contend with Ashley again, but presumably the rest of Rosemary's family. She'd been fairly well holed up within Charlie's sickroom, so much so that she wondered if the rest of the Butler clan remembered that she was still there.

Scarlett had heard the muted voices from the back of the hallway and approached rather hesitantly as she left the sanctuary of her bedroom. She placed a hand to her mouth as she beheld Charlie, supported by Lieutenant Bonham and Rhett Butler, walking down the stairs in an evening suit which looked far too large for him.

"Thank you," Charles was saying, "but I do believe that I can walk."

"Barely!" Luke Bonham chuckled. "You had us scared, Charles. I bet I'd get better quick too if my lady came all this way to nurse me."

"I am truly lucky," Charles responded meekly, not noticing Scarlett lingering in the doorway.

"Escort Captain Hamilton downstairs, will you, Luke?" Rhett said, his eyes twinkling. I believe that I've left something in my own room."

Charles held onto the handrail tightly as the other man supported his weight, and Rhett watched from the top of the landing to see that they were securely down, then met Scarlett's eyes.

"No wonder he pitched such a fit about getting out of bed," Rhett kissed her hand gallantly. "I must say, Mrs. Hamilton, what a fetching gown and what exquisite earbobs!"

"Oh Rhett!" she chided slightly, although she felt her cheeks grow hot at his touch.

"All joking aside, I will be quite sorry to see you return to fair Georgia when your husband's regiment departs. Although, I will certainly offer to squire you home myself."

"Who says I'm going home?" Scarlett smirked at him. "Your sister has dressed me so flawlessly, I could hide it for a month at least!"

"Ha!" Rhett laughed deeply. "I can tell. Oh please, don't cover up; I'm quite certain that the other gentlemen aren't as perceptive as I am."

"That's why they are gentlemen and you are not!" she snapped.

"Touché, my dear." Rhett held onto her arm as they began the descent down the grand staircase.

"I'm quite able to walk down myself," Scarlett snapped.

"I'll hold onto you, if that's not too disconcerting for you."

"Why Rhett, you sound so concerned for my welfare!" Scarlett first laughed, but then noted his drooping expression. His eyes blazed as he observed the arriving officers in the foyer. Holding tightly to her arm, he met the gaze of the foremost of the group. The other man's lips angled up in a leer as his dark eyes observed Rhett.

"Well, well, if it isn't my old friend Jacques Villeré," Rhett snarled. "Its always a surprise to see what sort of vermin crawl out of the gutter when there's a war on."

"Likewise," the man said silkily, his voice holding a twinge of a French accent. "I was told you were not received among decent people. Who is this, your latest whore?"

Instinctively, Scarlett backed away as Rhett drew dangerously close to the other man, his hands clenching into fists.

"I should kill you for that." Rhett growled dangerously.

"By all means try. I'll be waiting." Villeré said caustically, his eyes dipping towards Scarlett's bosom. "Pray tell me, Rhett. Who is this pretty little peach?"

Scarlett's fury rose up within her, but she forced herself to remain calm. Rhett was seething with rage.

"Ah, have I offended you? Perhaps you think that your tart is a lady of quality. After all, she looks very like someone we both know…"

"Colonel Villeré, perhaps you should rejoin the rest of your party in the parlor." Rhett's uncle wedged himself between the two men who stood toe to toe. "Rhett. Do not shame me here."

Rhett's sigh of acknowledgement placated the older man, who turned to guide the victorious Villeré into the parlor.

Scarlett tentatively placed a hand upon Rhett's arm. "Who was that horrid man?"

"He was married to my late sister," Rhett said dully.

"Is everything alright?" Rhett's aunt raced back into the room from the parlor, her cheeks flushed with indignation; Rosemary was following closely behind her.

"I told Matthew not to invite him. But he's been made a Colonel now, and we simply couldn't refuse him. He's General Beauregard's aide-de-camp."

"Of course he is," Rhett sneered. "I bet my fortune that my darling brother secured that position for him. They've always been up to their ears in misdeeds and my idiot father just keeps throwing money their way for them to lose."

"Rhett, now is not the time," Amelia soothed. "Mrs. Hamilton, I am very sorry that you had to see us air out our family business…and for anything else that wretched man might have said to you."

Scarlett shook her head vigorously. "Oh no, it was nothing at all, Mrs. Butler."

Amelia nodded politely and attempted to change the subject. "Well, Mrs. Hamilton, will you depart for home after the boys are safely off?"

Scarlett began to answer in the affirmative; however, she was interrupted by Rosemary, who interjected with the confidence of one who had practiced her argument far in advance. "Oh, Auntie! Scarlett wants to come with us to Richmond when we go next month. She's never been and she's longing to go but she's too proud to ask you. Please, Auntie, say that she may!"

"You're going to Richmond?" Rhett addressed his aunt with fresh interest.

"Indeed," Amelia said, eyeing Scarlett and her niece and nephew with a knowing glance. "Matthew has been advised that he will be elected a senator of our new Confederate Congress; he'll resign his commission and we'll settle in Richmond for a time. I had asked Rosemary to accompany me to help with the children. I daresay it'll be more exciting there than in Charleston…or anywhere in Georgia! Very well, Mrs. Hamilton. Speak to your husband, and if he is amenable, then of course you may accompany us."

Amelia's wizened gaze fell upon Rhett, who was observing the two young women as they entered the parlor with interlocked arms.

"You are very fond of her, aren't you, Rhett?"

"Mrs. Hamilton? Why what a leading question, Aunt Amelia!"

"She's married, Rhett. Even if her husband is a weakling, he's not dead."

"I am aware of that," he murmured.

"He's a nice young man, from a nice family."

"I am aware of that as well."

"Then we understand one another. If I take responsibility for Scarlett Hamilton, then I want your assurance that you'll leave her be."

Rhett smiled at his aunt, although she knew that as he did so, he was striving to keep Scarlett in his line of vision. Amelia sighed as Rhett left her to converse with Captain Wilkes. She had known him since he was a small boy, and he had always been one to take exactly what he wanted. It would take an exceptional sort of woman to win Rhett's heart, Amelia had always known that. She kept her eyes upon him as he again sought out Scarlett, and she began to realize that perhaps he had already found one…


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note**__: Thank you to all who are reading and reviewing this little story. I did want to reassure everyone that this most definitely falls under the category of a "what-if" story, as well as one which takes liberties with Margaret Mitchell's fabulous characters. Although I've placed them in an alternate setting, I do hope that they are behaving true to character. _

_First of all, thank you to sohhkb for keeping me on my toes as far as facts! (By my count she's around 12 weeks pregnant.) To saragwtw and QueenTania, you've got me debating on the storyline I had created for Frank… Feedback is great, but please keep reading and enjoying!_

Chapter 4

Raindrops began to pelt the windows and trickle down the glass, reminding Scarlett that she was still inside a jail of sorts, albeit a more pleasant one than she ever would have enjoyed at home. With a storm closing in on the plantation, the long avenue was completely devoid of activity; even the slaves had presumably fled the fields to find shelter indoors.

Soft footfalls came into the parlor, and Scarlett turned around to meet the reddened eyes of Rosemary, who was sorely lamenting Lieutenant Bonham's departure.

"Shall I call for some tea?" Rosemary murmured.

Scarlett had no interest in tea or food; and she was oddly chilled despite the summer season. The weather had been unseasonably mild for South Carolina, and Ashley had grimly predicted a fearsomely cold winter for the soldiers who would be stationed in Virginia.

"Tea will be fine," Scarlett muttered absently. "Thank you."

Rosemary rang a tiny silver bell and landed upon the velvet-covered settee with a heavy sigh.

"It doesn't seem right that they're gone. How many days has it been, four, five?"

"I've stopped counting," Scarlett let out her own pensive sigh as she left the window and took a seat upon the settee opposite Rosemary's.

One of the black maids rolled in the tea cart and sat it in between the two women, then bobbed a curtsy and hurried away. Accompanying the steaming pot of tea was a plate of scones set off by fresh butter and raspberry preserves. Rosemary's hands were trembling slightly as she lifted the teapot. She filled up her cup and added a thimbleful of sugar, which she stirred nervously.

"Luke hasn't written. Not a letter or a wire."

Scarlett took a bite out of her own scone, having every intention of eating it, but immediately setting it aside. She shuddered as she imagined eating it, and lost all trace of her appetite.

"There's not been word from any of them," Scarlett snapped irritably. "Ashley's not even written to tell me how Charlie is."

"It's not as though Ashley is your lover," Rosemary chortled. "Well? He isn't, is he?"

Scarlett rolled her eyes and refused to meet Rosemary's gaze. "Of course not! I'm married to Charlie, aren't I?"

"You'd be far from the first woman in history to love one man while married to another."

Scarlett ignored Rosemary's words, and instead closed her eyes and attempted to recreate their last meeting within her mind. Ashley's eyes, his new beard, his kiss upon her hand…wittingly or not, he had done nothing but bolster her girlish dream of winning his affections during his short visit…and yet, Scarlett was powerless to do anything about it.

She found herself standing up and looking out the window again. The plantation was so quiet and still and peaceful; beyond it, the world seemed vast and untamable, and the enormity of her sense of loss hit her as deeply as a dagger thrust to the heart. How ever was she to make the best of her circumstances when she was here alone at the tender age of sixteen?

Scarlett closed her eyes against the dull headache that had seemed to plague her since Ashley's visit. The pain within her temples throbbed so that she could barely stand being in a lighted room; with new enthusiasm, she raked her fingers through her hair and yanked out the pins which held it.

"You should wear your hair down more often," Rosemary observed.

Scarlett massaged her scalp with her fingers. "I shouldn't have let it loose in the parlor, but I can't stand it; truly, I can't!"

"What? Your hair or Ashley's absence? I saw how you lit up around him at dinner. It was as if he held the sun and stars in his back pocket and you were so very eager for a glance of them, you'd do anything!"

The pounding of her head had began to ease long enough for Scarlett to consider Rosemary's words along with her accusative tone. She began to pace restlessly as the other woman stared her down.

"Ashley is…" Scarlett began, "Ashley is…" She folded her hands demurely as she returned to her seat in an attempt to hide their trembling.

"What is he? Your champion on a white charger?" Rosemary said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "Let me guess, you assumed that even though you went your separate ways and married others, you would always hold a torch for him and he for you?"

Miserably, Scarlett felt the urgent need to unburden her heart to someone.

"Charlie is Ashley's wife's brother. I did it, I admit it! I only married Charlie to hurt him!"

The intense scowl coming from Rosemary's brows made Scarlett almost quail.

"Do you hate me now?" Scarlett moaned. "I know you think that I'm horrible! But how would you feel if Luke Bonham was engaged to some mealy-mouthed ninny while he was in love with you? How would you feel, then?"

"Is Ashley in love with you?" Rosemary interrupted Scarlett's rail. "Are you quite sure that he is?"

"Yes!" Scarlett declared.

Rosemary made an attempt to chuckle. "Well, then I suppose I shouldn't judge. I would be awful put out if Luke claimed to love me and then married another…but, Scarlett, honey…you're married to someone else now! You've got a baby on the way and it isn't Ashley's!"

Scarlett flashed her a look of loathing for mentioning the thing. Her loosest day dress was so tight that it was painful to wear even without a corset, and her breasts felt like to burst under the tight constraint of her bodice.

"Cheer up," Rosemary stood up and took her hand. "Only six months, give or take. Then the worst part of it will be over."

"What? My life?" Scarlett muttered. "I do believe that I will have to care for the thing after I've carried it."

"I meant the war, you selfish thing!" Rosemary giggled genuinely. "Luke says that the Yankees will be finished in one battle. It'll be glorious, he said."

"Charlie said something similar," Scarlett acknowledged. Her despair and loneliness were more than she seemed capable of baring at the moment, and she swayed dangerously at her feet. Hurriedly, Rosemary grasped her arm for support. She knew that Scarlett had eaten very little since the men had departed, managing to down nothing more than a few sips of broth or a few bites of toast. She had to be fretting about Charlie too, deep down; Charlie, who had risen from his sickbed in a valiant attempt at heroism, and who Rosemary suspected still was ignorant of the fact that he was to be a father.

With a rush of protective sympathy, Rosemary guided Scarlett back to the settee and began to run her fingers through her hair soothingly. Scarlett was so very emotional these days. That's why they call it a delicate condition, Rosemary thought as she soothed the other woman, it wreaks havoc on a lady's nerves.

Still, Rosemary understood Scarlett's dilemma. It had been so terribly hard when Rhett had been turned out, then Maria had gotten married and left for New Orleans, only to die a mere two years later. Rosemary would have understood it better if Maria had been ill even one day of her twenty-one years, or if there had been some sort of warning that Rhett would be tossed out on his ear; however, the hand of fate was unswayable and Rosemary had long since accustomed herself to the harsher aspects of life. Scarlett, she suspected, had not suffered similar sorts of things. She had never known anything but a loving family; she had had to worry about little more than prospective beaus and pretty gowns. When the war had come, she had made a fast marriage like so many other women throughout the South had, and now, she would have to play the hand she'd been dealt.

"Don't worry, Scarlett," Rosemary said with a fierce protective quality in her voice as the other sobbed on her shoulder. "You won't have to endure it alone. I promise you that. You won't have to do it alone!"

Sounds of a carriage rattling to a halt in front of the plantation were immediately followed by a loud rapping on the front door. The insistent knocking echoed throughout the foyer and reached the ears of the two ladies in the parlor. The valet hurriedly ran to the door to open it, and Rosemary and Scarlett hastily gathered their skirts and wiped their eyes. All feelings of sadness aside, it would not do for two genteel ladies to receive visitors looking like hoydens.

A loud clamor of voices arose from the hallway, and Amelia Butler let out an aghast cry. Rosemary steeled herself and whispered furtively to Scarlett.

"No tears, promise me! No matter what's happened, no tears! And if I start to weep, slap me. Promise?"

Scarlett nodded in assent, and the two walked into the foyer, seeing for themselves the disorderly entrance of the new arrivals. The first man was bleeding from the temple, a bandage having hastily been wrapped round his injury, which was leaking all over the priceless rugs. The second looked outwardly healthy, yet was breathless as he gave Mrs. Butler his message.

"Water!" the harassed looking Captain Butler called as he emerged from his study. "Sit down, soldiers. Tell us what's happened."

"Major battle, sir," the soldier choked out as the valet hurriedly pressed a cup of water in his hands, which he gulped down gratefully. "It's a victory for us. General McDowell advanced across Bull Run against Beauregard's men near Manassas Junction. We was overrun by 'em, Captain, but then Johnston's reinforcements poured in from the Shenandoah and we let them Yanks have it. You should have seen Colonel Jackson, sir. Just standin' there holdin' his ground like a stone wall. Then we attacked again and them Yankee boys turned tail and ran back to Washington. I bet Lincoln's still feelin' that lickin'."

"Praise be to God!" Captain Butler wiped his face with his handkerchief. "What are my orders from President Davis, then, Corporal?"

"Better ride right quick to Richmond, sir. The President needs every military man that can be spared at his disposal.

"We weren't meant to go for at least a month! What about our planting?" Mrs. Butler burst out, "I mean, my dear, the Congress doesn't even meet until November!"

"War happens on it's own time," Captain Butler nodded. "Thank you for riding so far in so short a time, Corporal. My man will see you both housed and fed; I'll dispatch riders to the neighboring plantations to inform them of our victory. My dear?" He addressed his wife. "We should make preparations to journey to Richmond. If you would prefer to remain here until November with the children…"

"No," she interrupted. "I'll have their things packed by nightfall. We'll go by train."

The large porcelain clock began to strike four, and the soldiers were turned towards the stairs by the valet.

"Sir?" Rosemary cried, unable to contain herself.

The corporal who had delivered the message rounded to face her.

"I know that you can't possibly know of particular causalities; but sir, I would be much obliged if you could tell me the fate of the gentlemen in Mr. Hampton's legion?"

The soldier's face flushed at her address; for he was a poor man and was unused to being approached by fine ladies. In all his days, he had only seen a handful of southern belles from a distance, and now he stood only feet away from the two most enchanting that his eyes had ever beheld.

"They was on the reverse slope of the hill, ma'am. Pretty well protected from enemy fire. They was charging the enemy flank, ma'am. So I'd say they wasn't in too much of harm's way."

"God bless you," Rosemary said as a wave of relief spilled over her. Scarlett was standing next to her, stunned.

Another knock upon the front door roused Scarlett from her trance-like state, and she left Rosemary's side momentarily to answer it since the valet was otherwise occupied. She moved toward the door with long-practiced serenity, although her insides were heaving. It had never occurred to her that Charles would be thrust into battle so soon after being so very sick. If he had been spared in this battle, he'd not make it through a rough encampment. She realized that her hands were trembling as she opened the door, and took care to hide them behind her back as she greeted the rain-soaked figure.

"Mrs. Hamilton," Rhett smiled as he wrung out his dripping hat and jacket and set them on the porch. "Nice weather we're having!"

His face was etched with concern at her unresponsiveness.

"You're not ill, are you?"

Scarlett shook her head. "There's been a battle. We've won it and now we're going to Richmond tonight."

"So I've heard," Rhett took her shaking hand in his own and patted it gently. "We've only lost about three hundred and the Yankees nearly four. I've not heard yet about how many wounded. I suspect this is one of many Pyrrhic victories for the South."

"Whatever do you mean by that?"

"It means that we won, but that we're going to lose in the end."

"Lose? But Rhett, you can't mean that?"

"I do mean it, my dear. We won this battle on the inexperience of the Yankees who haven't had the time to call up their full conscriptions. Give them a month to prepare for us and we'll be the ones facing the agony of defeat. I promise you that, Scarlett; we will not win."

"How can you say that? In your Uncle's house?"

"I suspect that Uncle already has his T's crossed up in Washington; investments here and there and the like. Our family doesn't take kindly to poverty, at least the brighter side. My father would soon as starve to death than to do something dishonorable."

"Are you trying to tell me that Captain Butler doesn't believe in the Cause either?"

"He believes in it far more than a miserable reprobate like me. But he's not a simpleton, and he won't let this war break him. Why the hell did you think he'd give up the chance to be a general? Well, its because he knows that the war will be over sooner or later and he'll want to be a private citizen again. Well my dear, you look simply horrified. Are you quite sure that you want to be associated with such people?"

Harsh, derisive laughter escaped from his lips, and Scarlett faced him with shock written all over her face. He had insulted Ashley and Charles and the Cause all in a single sentence, and here she was expected to believe that his entire family felt the same way? She had just recently accepted Mrs. Butler as a protector and Rosemary as a confidante. Surely Rosemary didn't feel the same way as Rhett, not with Luke serving at the front!

Scarlett returned her attention to the man in standing in front of her, who was observing her with an odd look of detachment. She recalled that her appearance was disheveled to the point of being laughable. Her long hair was curling wildly about her shoulders, and she had long set aside her hairpins in the flurry of activity.

"I apologize…" she began.

"Don't," Rhett smiled as his eyes continued to assess her. "You are much more charming this way."

Her eyes upturned towards him, and he noted that they were red rimmed. "Come now, Mrs. Hamilton! Don't tell me that you've been weeping. Is it just for fear over Mr. Wilkes's safety? Surely you've not come to care for your husband?"

Scarlett glared at him, but was unable to think of an adequate retort for such a blatant insult.

Rhett cleared his throat loudly, his gaze turning away from Scarlett and toward the young woman shooting daggers his way.

"I trust that young Mr. Bonham is well?" Rhett said awkwardly.

"I wouldn't know," Rosemary answered. "But you certainly aren't helping us by skulking about like a serpent."

"A serpent, eh? I certainly hope that I'm an exotic species of cobra."

"Rhett!"

"In all seriousness, Sis. I've come to offer you and Mrs. Hamilton an alternative to Richmond. Let me put you on a train to Atlanta. It's much safer. I'm being offered a share in a new business enterprise which will bring me there frequently, and I'll give you an enormous allowance with which to keep you entertained."

"What about Scarlett?" Rosemary demanded. "Whatever is in Atlanta for her?"

"Her sister-in-law for one," Rhett said sweetly. "Which of course promises visits from her husband and brother-in-law during their furloughs."

"That's the last person she wants to be around!" Rosemary declared hotly. "Tell him, Scarlett."

Scarlett wasn't pleased at all by the way in which both of the Butler siblings stared her down and she sulkily crossed her arms over her midsection.

"She's going to have a child, Rosemary. This isn't a game; this is war, for God's sake!"

"I know its war!" Rosemary shrilled. "I know it is, and so does she! We both have men out there!"

"Scarlett!" Rhett entreated as he grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. "For once in your life, be reasonable."

"Take your hands off me! You don't even know me! How dare you?" Scarlett began to sob and Rosemary enveloped her in a hug.

"You need to leave!" she whispered furtively to Rhett. "Get out of here before you really upset her. And if you're thinking about exposing her secret to Auntie, I'll…well…I'll never speak to you again!"

Rhett gave his sister a coolly disdaining smile as he backed away, his hands raised in mock defeat. "I suppose that I cannot dissuade you from going. But I can dissuade you from staying."

"Auntie won't hear of her traveling once we are safely there!" Rosemary smirked.

"Auntie may not…but Mrs. Hamilton's husband certainly will."

Scarlett's face crumpled in disappointment. "You wouldn't dare tell Charlie! _I_ haven't told him yet!"

Rhett chortled vindictively, as though he were addressing two very naughty children rather than two ladies.

"He's lying, Scarlett. He wouldn't dare."

"I would dare," Rhett bowed deeply as he turned to depart. "Have a lovely trip, ladies. Ah, the rain has finally stopped. It must be my lucky day."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note**: Thanks so much to everyone who has read/favorited/reviewed! I hope that everyone is liking it so far! _

Chapter 5

Scarlett felt herself struggling to find a break in the bright light filling her line of vision. It was bright and obtrusive and seemed to surround her; the headache was back with a vengeance, and there was no relief from it. Squeezing her eyes closed, she attempted to imagine that she was a young girl again at Tara, innocent and carefree. No relief came, and she felt the light penetrating her closed eyelids. Cautiously, she opened one, then the other. Indistinct shapes fluttered around her, one large and bulky one rested at the foot of her bed. If she looked hard enough, she could make out an insolent smirk.

She was in a stranger's bed, a man's, if she had to guess from the strong masculine essence about the pillow. As her thoughts became clearer, Scarlett swept her hand hurriedly downward to examine her attire. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized that she was clad in only her chemise. Her hands stopped at her stomach, and she groaned as she felt the noticeable curve in her abdomen. It was beginning to protrude even as she was lying down. The indignity of it all stirred her emotions, and she felt her eyes brim with tears. Blinking hard, she refocused her gaze to the other side of the room. The man was sitting at a desk with an opened book in hand. At the sound of her stirring, he sat the book down and immediately appeared at her side.

"Where am I?" Scarlett said, her voice holding a tremor which she did not like.

"My townhouse. You're in lovely Richmond, and you fainted the moment you stepped off of the train."

She met his dark eyes, which were set off by his sun bronzed face and jet-black mustache. The white color of his cravat was accented by the bright light peeking through the windows and the effect was startling.

"I'm glad to see that you're awake. I do declare, Mrs. Hamilton, if you're going to keep fainting at inopportune moments your entire pregnancy, I must endeavor to be your chaperone at all times. It wouldn't do for you to pass out without me around to catch your fall."

"Where is my dress? My clothes?" Scarlett demanded with righteous indignation. Fainting spell or not, she was in Rhett Butler's bedroom clad in little more than a chemise. Never mind that she was another man's wife and carrying that man's child…

"I had that wretched corset burned. You shouldn't be wearing them at all, let alone while you're with child. I'm surprised that you've not fainted more often."

"You…undressed me?" Scarlett's eyes widened with horror.

"My sister did. I merely supervised." Rhett's voice was filled with warm humor and a smile formed upon his lips. "I told you to go to Atlanta, didn't I? I made you a right generous offer. But you turned down good times for a war zone, and you're going to pay the piper, my pet."

"Whatever are you talking about?" Scarlett scoffed.

"You'll see," he said cheerfully. "Well, my dear, it seems that you are stuck here in Richmond for the duration of your confinement. Well, that's what you wanted, isn't it? Well, that is what's in store for you. The doctor warned you quite specifically that you not go on any more visits."

Her mind raced with fresh horror. "A doctor was here? So people know that I'm…here?"

"Indeed," Rhett smirked. "It would have been quite humorous, really, had I not been so concerned for your wellbeing. By sheer coincidence, my own train to New York was delayed at the station here in town. I was sitting on the bench at the depot, waiting patiently, when what sound should fill my ears but the porter announcing that the Columbia train had arrived. Naturally, I hastened to greet my dear relations whose company you are enjoying. You looked rather pale as you stepped onto the platform, pale but pretty."

She rolled her eyes and pressed back wearily against the pillows and crossed her arms.

"You pout rather prettily as well, my dear," he chuckled.

"Don't talk to me like that!" Scarlett snapped and then added primly. "I'm a married woman, besides."

"So your condition would suggest," he teased as he leaned forward slightly and captured a stand of her hair in his hand and felt it. "Indeed, it is like silk. How lovely your hair is, Mrs. Hamilton. But I digress, where was I? Oh, yes, I was in the process of greeting you and you grabbed Rosemary's arm and your knees buckled. Indeed, I believe you would have fallen off of the platform and taken her down with you had I not been there to intervene."

"I suppose that I owe you thanks," she said grudgingly.

"Don't be too free with your gratitude, my pet. Believe me, there will be ample time for you to make it up to me."

Scarlett groaned in abject misery. "You can't expect me to stay here! Not for the entire time."

"You wanted to come so badly!" he chortled. "Now reap the consequences. If it would make you feel any better…I can arrange for your husband to come and visit. He's safe, by the way. And encamped just outside the city if you were at all concerned."

"I'm glad," she said genuinely, then tempted Rhett's jovial humor by asking further. "Is Ashley safe too, Rhett?"

His knuckle pressed against his lips as he struggled to contain an outburst of laughter. "However did I know that you would ask of the fetching Ashley Wilkes? Yes, I took the liberty of ascertaining his safety. He suffered a bayonet clip to the forehead…" at the sight of her horrified face he chuckled aloud. "Don't worry. His pretty face is undamaged. He looked rather more dashing than he did at Twelve Oaks. Perhaps it's the beard…"

Scarlett glared up at him. "Its all well and good for you to make fun of them! While they're out fighting and you're _here_!"

"Saving the woman they love? Honestly, I believe they both owe me a debt of gratitude. And believe me, Scarlett, I'll be much better company to you here then they will be. War does peculiar things to a man, you see. Yes, in a few months, you'll be very glad that I'm around to show you a good time."

"I rather doubt that," she sighed loudly. "So where is Rosemary? I'm surprised that she'd leave me alone with you all this time."

The mirth left his eyes as he answered her. "Don't fear, she's not forsaken you…far from it. You might have realized by now that my baby sister is tenacious once her loyalties take root. She's not here at this very moment because Lieutenant Bonham suffered a fairly serious gunshot wound to the hip."

Scarlett let out a small cry and turned her face toward the wall, allowing a moment of silence to pass between them.

"Will he recover?" she finally managed.

"He's a strong, scrappy sort of fellow. I certainly paid enough to get him transferred to the hospital here in town instead of trusting him to the camp surgeon…I suspect he'll be alright. But it's been a wakeup call for Rosie, I daresay. Truth be told, I think that everyone on both sides woke up this morning a little more grim. The Yankees had anticipated an easy victory, and our boys had not expected them to fight so hard. This very day, I'm told that President Lincoln is calling for half a million troops."

"Half a million?" Scarlett tried to process the staggering figure in her head. "Are there that many Yankees?"

Rhett's smile returned again. "Easily. That's not even including the foreigners that they can buy. You see, my dear, we are hopelessly outnumbered. But the fact that Lincoln's asking for three years of service means that we're in it for the long haul. Give it a few more years and that baby you're carrying may well be fighting on the front lines."

"Oh don't call it that!" Scarlett groaned miserably.

"What else shall I call it?" Rhett held his head aslant as he observed her.

"The thing," Scarlett muttered.

"The thing," Rhett repeated, clearly amused. "Aha. Well, I suppose that I should wish you and the…thing…adieu for the time being."

"Wherever are you going?" Scarlett asked, her voice etched with disappointment.

"I must see to my business interests. I would have been to New York and back this very night if not for you and the _thing_ slowing me up."

"I thought you said that you had business in Atlanta!" Scarlett pouted.

He let out a mighty roar of laughter at that.

"My dear, the number of cities in which I do _not_ do business are decidedly small. I do have affairs in Atlanta, to be sure. Oh, but don't fret, I'll certainly make time to call upon you and the illustrious _thing_ every time I'm in town."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"Stay in bed. Rest up. Allow the _thing _to do its business."

"Fiddle-dee-dee!" Scarlett scoffed. "I'm just fine."

"You'll stay in that bed, Mrs. Hamilton…and I'm going to make quite sure that you do."

"You'll post guards at every door, I'm sure," she examined her hands nonchalantly.

He wore a self-satisfied smirk. "Even better. I've already enlisted the services of my sister, and I've put out a wire this morning for your second nursemaid."

"That is quite bold of you!" she said in a scandalized whisper. "But whom? If you wrote my mother you…"

"You must think that I'm a respectable gentleman, darling. How sadly mistaken you are. I have half a mind just to let you find out for yourself when she arrives."

"Mammy, then? Who?" Scarlett was genuinely curious now.

"Mrs. Melanie Wilkes will be arriving by train tomorrow night or so. Judging by the exuberant response I received back from her, I trust that you will be in very capable hands."

Her horror knew no bounds as she beheld him in all his glory, looking verily like a cat ready to pounce on its cornered prey.

"I don't want her here!" Scarlett groaned.

"Too bad," Rhett said. "Goodbye, Mrs. Hamilton. Remember your orders; rest! And my best to the thing as well."

With that, he exited, leaving Scarlett alone with her scattered thoughts. What a cad he was! Worse, what a foul, manipulative…the thought of his laughing black eyes was enough to make her blood boil. How dare he take such liberties with her? How dare he?

Her heart sank as she remembered Rosemary and her wounded sweetheart, and a wave of guilt swept over her. Rosemary had shown her nothing but kindness, and here she was feeling sorry for herself while Rosemary's love had been gravely injured. Suppose it had been Charlie, or worse, Ashley! She trembled within the covers of the big bed, her vision impeded by the hot tears that had formed in her eyes. Suddenly, she felt very small, and longed only for the feeling of Mammy's warm black arms wrapped around her. Again, she closed her eyes, and began to dream…

"Scarlett? Darling?"

A man's voice again roused her from her stupor. Scarlett rubbed her eyes with her hands as she sat up. Fully expecting the effervescent Rhett Butler, she let out a startled cry as she made out the wide brown eyes set in the round face.

"I'm sorry!" Charles's face flushed and he turned his eyes to the floor. "I've startled you; I'm so very sorry! Shall I step outside while you dress?"

Scarlett let out a measured sigh.

"There's no need…you're my husband, after all."

Without another word, Charles rounded to face her. His hand gently moved the covers downward to examine the her still small but noticeably rounded abdomen. He cried aloud with pleasure and fell to his knees, still caressing it. It was true, the miserable Butler hadn't lied; she was going to bear him a child.

Scarlett sobbed as Charles pressed his lips against her belly. The intimacy of the moment frightened her, and strange emotions which she had never before attributed to Charlie began to manifest themselves. The knowledge that he could have died, either by illness or death, and would have never experienced this moment shook her to her depths. He was here, and he and Ashley had both survived the first battle. But it wouldn't be the last one, and he would leave her again. What if she never saw him again? What if his child never knew its father?

Knowing not how best to comfort her, Charles climbed into the bed next to her, merely kissing her forehead and allowing her to sob quietly on his chest for the rest of the night…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The last few days of July passed slowly into August, which flew by along with September. The temperature steadily climbed throughout the summer and early fall, the air completely devoid of the soft coastal breeze they had enjoyed in South Carolina; then, with little warning, the nights became bitterly cold and the soldiers encamped a short distance outside the capitol began to suffer terribly. Scarlett herself lay miserably in bed the majority of the time, dreading the inevitable arrival of Melanie and feeling ever so grateful for each day that her sister-in-law did not present herself.

Luke Bonham had largely recovered from his injury and had been made a captain, having proved himself valorous upon the battlefield. More recently, he had been prone to visit their townhouse on a regular basis, enjoying the freedom that his new rank entitled him; all the while, Rosemary, in Scarlett's opinion, was falling even more head over heels in love with the man. In her free time, which was somewhat limited due to her daily obligation tutoring her aunt's three older children in French, she could be observed strolling arm and arm with her sweetheart along the street.

Scarlett only watched from her window, feeling increasingly unsteady on her feet and increasingly unattractive. Charles and several of the other cavalry officers in Hampton's Legion had been called to duty in the Shenandoah Valley to assist in the training of the new recruits from Texas. To her arch surprise, she discovered within a week of his departure that she missed him. Although he possessed little of Ashley's good looks and even less of Rhett Butler's poise, she couldn't help but feel that Charlie was vastly more attentive to her tender sensibilites than either of them would have been. He wrote her long letters declaring his ardent devotion to her and describing in great detail the people and places he encountered; and she eagerly anticipated his letters, if only for the knowledge that a gentleman still cared enough to write to her.

With a heavy sigh, Scarlett pulled her eyes away from the window and returned to bed. Charlie's most recent letter went on for an epic five pages in his miniscule penmanship which she had to squint to make out.

_The Texans are little more than savages upon horseback. They've brought with them Indian ponies, which are quieter than our proper horses and which they insist can provide us with the element of surprise. You would not believe the tricks that they perform with their shotguns; impressive as they are, I am of the belief that they exhibit conduct more befitting a circus sideshow than among the ranks of our gentlemen soldiers…_

Scarlett skipped over another page and moved to the more interesting portion, that which concerned her.

…_My dearest Scarlett, I can scarcely sleep at night for thought of you alone in a strange city. It is my greatest comfort that you have formed so strong a friendship with Miss Rosemary Butler, for she is perhaps one of the finest ladies I have ever met. I admit, I had my doubts as to the character of her brother; however, I should have known better than to let others' opinions of the man sway my own. I owe him an enormous debt of gratitude for coming to your aide when you arrived in Richmond, and I wish that I could have been able to convey my sentiments to him personally. My dear, if you had been injured in any way, I do not own enough words to convey the depth of my despair. With each passing day, my darling, my love for you deepens. It sustains me even when I am cold and wet and have little to eat. The knowledge that I am fighting for not only this Glorious Cause but for you and for our child gives me the courage and fortitude to carry out my duties steadfastly and in good cheer. I only hope that you are well, and in good health and comfort. I shall most eagerly await my next trip to Richmond, when I may convey my arduous sentiments to you in person. Until then, I remain, your loving husband. _

_Charles_

Scarlett put Charles's letter aside, fighting off an urge to rip it into a thousand pieces. She did not deserve such words, especially from her husband. She had done nothing to warrant them and he had no business putting them to paper.

Hurriedly setting the letter from Charlie aside, Scarlett sat up in bed at the sound of soft rapping on the door. Groaning as she hauled herself out of bed, Scarlett meandered out to the hallway and peered over the landing to get a better glance at who might be at the door. Curtis, Rhett's manservant whom he had left behind to serve as their valet, had already answered the door, and she heard him inform the visitor that Mrs. Hamilton was not receiving callers.

"But I'm her sister-in-law!" a shrill voice cried. Scarlett descended the steps and leered at the petite little figure in the doorway. She was paler than she had been the last time Scarlett had seen her, and her tiny frame seemed even tinier than usual. Scarlett felt like a veritable elephant next to her.

"Scarlett!" Melanie called as she observed her and ran to embrace her, nearly causing her to lose her grip on the railing.

"Hello, Melanie," Scarlett said in a voice with little inflection.

If Melanie noticed that Scarlett's greeting lacked exuberance, she made up for it with her own, tears pouring down her cheeks in happy affection.

"You look beautiful," she gushed. "Oh may I?"

Scarlett rolled her eyes and nodded as Melanie put one little birdlike hand on her stomach and bent down to kiss it.

"To think of missing this, oh Scarlett! It's all worth it now! Oh my dear, it's all worth it."

Scarlett took Melanie's arm and escorted her into the parlor and called for some tea. "What's worth it, Melanie?"

"Oh, Scarlett, I've been in a terrible dilemma. When I first received Mr. Butler's telegram that you were ill, I began to pack immediately…"

"Hetty Cary! Don't you dare show her that before I get a chance to…oh, hello! I do declare, you look just like our friend Hetty from the back. But surely you're not Melanie Wilkes?"

Hurriedly setting her teacup aside, Melanie rose and extended her hand for Rosemary to shake, which the other did with marked enthusiasm.

"Show me what, Rose?" Scarlett asked.

"The flag is all done. Oh, Melanie, you should see it. Scarlett and myself and some of the other ladies have been commissioned by General Beauregard himself to sew a new flag. Our gentlemen were complaining that the Stars and Bars looked too much like the Yankee flag and they were shooting their own boys."

"Oh dear!" Melanie put her hand to her mouth as she returned to her seat.

"Well, we wouldn't have had enough cloth for it at all if Scarlett hadn't donated her own gown."

"I still don't see how it will look like it's the same fabric," Scarlett scoffed. "That was a pink gown, not a red one."

Truth be told, she hadn't even intended on donating the garment, but the Cary girls had caught her on a day in which it, like all the rest of her day dresses, could no longer take the abuse of her being stuffed into them. In a moment of despair, Scarlett had thrown it at Rosemary and instructed her to get rid of it. Rosemary gave it immediately to the Cary's, and ever since, they had turned Scarlett's seemingly insignificant gesture into a noble sacrifice for the Cause.

"Oh Scarlett, how very sweet of you."

"Well," Rosemary continued, "the Davis's are having a ball tonight to unveil it, and we're the guests of honor. Constance Cary told me this morning. You must come with us, Melanie."

"I guess you'll both have a wonderful time," Scarlett snapped with irritation.

"Oh Scarlett, darling, I'll stay here with you."

"Nonsense!" Rosemary chided. "Scarlett's going to come. She can't dance, but I'll be damned if she misses it. Besides, Scarlett, Rhett's in town and he's been longing to see you as it is…Rhett is my brother, Melanie, by the by. If you see a dark-haired gentleman tonight standing by himself with a trail of catty gossipers at his back, that's him."

"Rhett Butler?" Melanie inquired. "I have made his acquaintance before. Only once, at my husband's home. My Aunt Pitty told me about…" Melanie's face flushed as she recognized her blunder. "I do apologize."

"Don't! Please, don't fret. I don't bite, do I Scarlett?"

"I'm sure that you're very kind, for watching our Scarlett so diligently."

"It's my pleasure, for Scarlett certainly keeps me entertained."

"But Scarlett can't possibly be seen in public!" Melanie protested. "Her condition can't be hidden at this point."

Scarlett fought an urge to claw Melanie's eyes out.

"Auntie told me just today that you may borrow another of her gowns. Showing or not, Scarlett, you have to come. You helped make the flag, and besides, you've been cooped in here for the better part of two months."

The excitement of attending an actual party made Scarlett giddy. "Does Mrs. Butler really have another dress for me? Truly Rose? I've been so longing to get out of here and dance."

"No dancing!" Rosemary shook her head. "Don't press your luck, Scarlett. But don't worry, Melanie, we'll make her look like a queen and if anyone says anything to her about it, you and I can tell them to go to the devil."

"I don't believe that I brought anything suitable," Melanie said hesitantly. "I left in such a hurry and it was difficult to pack much."

"Why ever did you hurry so, Melanie? Surely you knew that you wouldn't miss the baby's arrival!"

"I wanted to come immediately after your brother wrote to me," Melanie repeated for Rosemary's benefit. "But Uncle Peter forbade it."

"Uncle Peter…that would be your Aunt Pitty's husband?" Rosemary wondered aloud.

"Oh no!" Melanie's tone was scandalized. "Aunt Pitty is unmarried and Uncle Peter is…well, he's our coachman. Well, Aunt Pitty's coachman, I should say…but he's always looked after her, and Charlie and I too, after our parents passed away."

"Why didn't he want you to come, Melly?" Scarlett asked.

"He said that it wasn't fitting. Oh Scarlett, I cried so. I tried to explain how very brave you had been to go visit Charlie and how he might have died if you hadn't come. But he hollered at me, Scarlett, he hollered at me!"

"I would have buggy-whipped him!" Rosemary let out an outraged snort.

"Oh, no, I know he means well. But I was consumed by guilt. Every day I lingered, I felt more and more a coward. But by a stroke of good fortune, we were invited to Twelve Oaks, Aunt Pitty and I…it was wonderful, and I saw your mother and father, Scarlett."

"Mother and Pa!" Scarlett exclaimed. "How are they? They've only written me three letters…at least, that's all I've gotten."

"They were well and good, and your sisters too. Mr. Kennedy was there too, he asked of you. But anyway, your mother asked me out to Tara, which of course, I was delighted…but I got there, and she began to cry no sooner than the tea had arrived. It was dreadful, Scarlett, she and Mr. O'Hara tried to board a train to Richmond, but they were turned away. Something about our boys needing the rail for supplies rather than passengers. And then Mr. O'Hara wanted to travel by carriage, but she was very worried for his health and didn't want to risk leaving the plantation for so long a period. It was horrible to see her so sad!"

"Mother, crying? But she never cries…was she alright, Melly? Are you sure?" Scarlett said worriedly.

"Oh yes, I think she is in fine health! Merely tired, and very worried about you. She took my hand and said how very much alike the two of you are. It was very lovely, Scarlett; you are so very fortunate to have such loving parents."

"So how did you get here then, if the rail lines are closed?" Rosemary interrupted before Scarlett could begin to weep at the thought of her mother.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid that's where I was a bit dishonest…I couldn't bear returning to Atlanta and safety, not after thinking about Scarlett all by herself and that precious little baby she's going to have to deliver in a strange place…So, I, I had to lie to get access to a train."

"Whatever did you say? I'm all ears!"

Melanie swallowed hard, as though she had something distasteful inside her mouth.

"I said that I was a widow, and that I was going to collect my husband's effects…"

"Melanie!" Scarlett was genuinely shocked and horrified, but Rosemary roared with laughter.

"That's the finest thing I've ever heard, Melanie Wilkes. Welcome, indeed, to Richmond. Oh, don't be embarrassed, you did quite well."

"Uncle Peter and Aunt Pitty will be furious…I didn't tell them I was going, you see. I begged a headache our last night at Twelve Oaks and I snuck out a side window and had a Negro drive me to Jonesboro. It was all night before we reached Chattanooga, and I had very little money…so I slept there, at the depot."

"You mean to tell me, Melanie Wilkes, that you slept at the depot?"

"Yes…well…it wasn't terribly uncomfortable. And besides, I kept thinking about my brother and Ashley marching and Scarlett up here…and then, well, they wouldn't let me board a train with the soldiers, and I had to come up with some sort of respectable story, lest they think that I was a bad woman…but the trip was tolerable. I was seated next to two lovely boys from Alabama who taught me how to play cards. And now I'm here…oh Scarlett, do you think that I'll get in terrible trouble?"

"Whoever are you afraid of, your maiden aunt or her darkie?" Rosemary guffawed. "Blast! It's nearly three o'clock. We have a ball to make ready for, ladies!"

"I really am very tired," Melanie protested.

"Nonsense. We surely have something suitable that you can wear between the pair of us." Rosemary cocked her head aslant thoughtfully, "Scarlett, what about that ravishing green muslin you have stuffed at the bottom of your trunk? That's small enough to fit Melly, isn't it?"

Scarlett's cheeks reddened at the idea of Melanie Wilkes in any of her gowns, let alone the one in which she, Scarlett, had confessed her love for Melanie's husband. However, in a voice not quite her own, she replied. "Of course..."

Many of the guests had already arrived by the time the carriage conveying Scarlett, Rosemary, and Melanie pulled to a halt before the door of the Davis's Richmond residence, the Confederate White House.

Rosemary took Melanie's arm and patted it soothingly, noting the small, fretting frown the other woman donned. Scarlett too was in a sour mood, thinking for sure that she would be bombarded with disapproving leers from the society matrons. Self-consciously, Scarlett adjusted her shawl to more adequately hide her condition.

"If you only knew how lovely you look, Scarlett, you'd not let any of them bother you!" Rosemary whispered. "And you too, Melly! Why I believe that you both outshine me."

"Not at all," Melanie said. "That yellow silk is exquisite!"

"My brother brought it all the way from Havana last month. He sent Scarlett some in green, but the vain little minx refuses to have it made into anything until she is short of her bundle."

"So would you," Scarlett muttered.

"I don't want to hear it," Rosemary scolded playfully. "And as for your condition, you have nothing to be ashamed of either."

Scarlett let out a forlorn sounding sigh. "Perhaps not, but I would dearly love to dance."

"Do you hear her, Rhett, she wants to dance!"

He was waiting at the front door for them, a bemused expression upon his swarthy face. Except for his white shirt and cravat and a burnished silver brocade waistcoat, he was dressed entirely in black, which did nothing but accent his fine figure. He extended his arm to Scarlett, who was slightly breathless from exertion.

"I trust you aren't wearing a corset this evening, Mrs. Hamilton?"

"Oh, won't you keep your voice down, you skunk?"

"Forgive me, I was merely gauging the likelihood of you requiring my services this evening. But don't worry, madam, I'll stick extra close to you just the same as a precaution."

He whisked her inside, pausing only to greet his aunt, who complemented Scarlett's gown with a broad wink.

"It _is _another superb choice," he whispered, his eyes peaking downward slightly.

Scarlett glanced down at her generous chest, which was well displayed thanks to the low neckline of the heavily bejeweled bodice. Lifting her head arrogantly, she whispered, "it's a pity that my husband isn't here to appreciate it!"

Laughing loudly, he whispered back. "Or Ashley Wilkes. After the performance I witnessed from him at Rose Hill, I suspect that you could have your way with him if you played your cards right…"

"Don't you dare insult him!"

"Is that his wife over there with my sister? That dress is all wrong for her…sakes alive, I recall that very gown. Oh that is cruel, Mrs. Hamilton, very cruel. Giving her _that _tainted gown…I'm ashamed."

"You're being very mean, Rhett Butler. If you're going to insult me all night, then I wish you'd just go away."

"And leave you to the wolves? I'd better protect you. I promised Rosemary that I would and you know how she gets when she's riled."

"I think that they're all staring at me," Scarlett said tensely. "Look at Mrs. Lee, she knows. As does Mrs. Longstreet."

"How do you know that they aren't staring at _me_?" Rhett chirped. "I'm the one with the terrible reputation."

"Ha! And I'm the one standing with you," she retorted.

"But I'm the one who sought you out, another man's wife."

"But I'm the one who should be secluded at home, and here I am associating with someone who is not received."

"I fold, my dear. It seems that we are equally personas non grata tonight. If you were able, I would ask you to dance and really set their tongues wagging."

"Oh Rhett, really? I would give anything to dance, just once!"

"Not on my watch. But if you're so eager to dance with me, I'll be glad to reserve several for you after the _thing _is safely delivered."

"You're impossible."

"Yet you clearly find me charming, else you would not remain at my side."

"I should find Melanie. I'm sure that she's off somewhere being a wallflower."

"She's over there dancing with Colonel Stewart."

"So she is…" Scarlett's voice trailed off as she surveyed the dance floor. Surprisingly, however, she only felt a slight twinge of longing as she observed the dancing couples. After all, Rhett Butler was the most handsome man in the room, and his eyes did not stray from her the rest of the evening…

It was nearly midnight before the three women were dropped off at the townhouse by Rhett, who was taking up residence at a nearby hotel instead.

"Your brother is so gallant!" Melanie said admiringly as they watched his carriage depart. "My goodness, his manners are impeccable, are they not? And he had me in stitches for the majority of the evening."

"That's Rhett for you," Rosemary smirked. "Only our Scarlett is immune to his charm."

"But I've had far too much champagne, Rosemary," Melanie protested. "Your brother kept bringing me fresh glasses…"

"You didn't have to accept them, Melly," Scarlett chided.

"I didn't wish to be rude…"

"Three cheers for Melanie Wilkes," Rosemary said loudly as they entered the house. "Fugitive _and _belle of the ball."

"I highly doubt that," Melanie blushed heavily. "Surely I'm not the first lady to run away from home!"

"I gave Mammy the slip in Saratoga once," Scarlett reminisced aloud. "But only for an hour, and she'd liked to have whipped my hide when I returned."

"Oh dear, I'm afraid that Uncle Peter will never speak to me again." Melanie despaired.

"Does everyone in Georgia value the opinions of their darkies so much?" Rosemary giggled. "I must say, if I listened to everything my Mammy told me, I would have been married off at fourteen and I would have never met my Mr. Bonham."

"Is he your husband?" Melanie inquired politely.

"He's her sweetheart, and don't get her started on him, Melly, unless you want to listen to her sing his praises for the rest of the evening."

"Speak for yourself, Madam," Rosemary nudged Scarlett playfully, which earned her a malicious glare in reprisal. "I've had the opportunity to meet your husband, Melanie. He seems a nice man."

When Melanie nodded shyly, Rosemary pressed on, emboldened by the large amount of champagne she herself had consumed.

"I try to get Scarlett to tell me about the secrets of the bedroom, but she's very rude and pleads her delicate condition whenever I ask…Tell us about your wedding night!"

"My…" Melanie's face was bright red, but she sighed dreamily.

"Don't tell her, Melly," Scarlett ordered. "She's as bad as her brother."

"Oh Rhett's not that bad, Scarlett. Besides, he's had a rather difficult life. Exciting, mind, but difficult."

"I'd be interested to hear that!" Scarlett smirked.

"Well, he was expelled from West Point after two years to start. He'd been deliberately shirking his academics to avoid being placed in the artillery; he'd had his heart set upon being a naval officer like Papa or a pirate like Grandpa…anyway, he got fast with one of the instructor's daughters and got a write-up. When he refused to apologize, he was expelled. Then he showed up at home and Papa said that he was not to set foot in our house. Well, Grandma was still alive then and took Rhett's side in it all… She was so rich as well as out of her mind at that point and she was starting to call Rhett by Grandpa's name. But then she gave him all her jewelry and a substantial sum of money to go out West with, and when he returned, he came back loaded down with money and with a woman!"

"A woman!" The abrupt clearing of Scarlett's throat made Rosemary giggle aloud and she continued.

"Indeed. She was half Indian to look at her. He'd met her in Texas or California somewhere, and oh Scarlett, she was lovely. She had the blackest eyes I had ever seen…Well, Grandma thought it was wonderful, but Papa took offense and said that Rhett could take his squaw whore back to where she came from and come home when he'd learned to be a gentleman. And Rhett, he was irate; he and Papa were brawling in the foyer. We had to get the vapors out for Mama, she fainted right away. I was just a little girl then, no more than four or five, but I remember it to this day. Papa said that Rhett was no son of his, and when Rhett and his lady left, well Papa went right down to his lawyer and had Rhett written out of everything. Well, Rhett was rich on his own by then, so it didn't matter. So he took his beloved to New Orleans and they had a grand old time, of course they weren't married, but he's never cared about such things. But Maria, my sister, she suffered terribly at the hands of Andrew, my other brother. He's a wicked, wicked human being, my brother. He couldn't keep his hands off of her in private. And then Maria married that horrible Villeré at Papa's insistence, and went off to New Orleans too. Scarlett's already met him, Melanie, and he is a rotten sort as well. It wasn't long before Andrew joined them, and he and her husband became business partners. Together, they owned nearly all the rice in Louisiana. But Rhett never forgot about Maria, he would always look in on her while they were away on business. Villeré ended up returning to France for a time and let Andrew loose on Maria. It was horrible, Rhett only told me this much, much later and only after he was dangerously drunk. Maria conceived a child during that time. It was the worst horror imaginable and she was so very ashamed. So Rhett's lady friend offered to get rid of it before it became noticeable."

Melanie gasped in horror.

"Her own brother…"

"Well, it didn't work, whatever she did. And Maria died. She bled to death."

"I'm sure that Mr. Butler was devastated."

"He was. He and Maria were not fourteen months apart. They were very close."

"What happened to his paramour?" Scarlett murmured.

"I'm not sure. Rhett never said, just that she died shortly after…I always wondered if she didn't take her own life…I'm sure that she was overwhelmed with guilt."

"Your poor sister! And what happened to your other brother?" Melanie cried. "Your whole family…its like a Greek tragedy!"

"Andrew is walking around free this very day. He married a respectable airhead who didn't know or care that he was completely devoid of a conscience…I was convinced he'd get himself elected to our new Congress just so he could get his paws on the treasury. He's always been horribly greedy, and not at all good at making money like Rhett…" Rosemary said in a muted tone, then smiled and said absently. "We're an interesting bunch, we Butler's…it must be the pirates in our bloodline."

"Pirates, too?" Scarlett chortled as she came to Melanie's aid. The other woman was swaying on her feet from far too much champagne. Scarlett had a suspicion that neither Melly nor Rosemary would remember too much of the evening's events in the morning.

"Goodnight, Scarlett!" Rosemary grinned as she floated up the stairs to her bedroom. "Goodnight, Melly!"

"Scarlett, darling!" Melanie's cheeks were flushed and her big brown eyes slightly glazed. "I do believe that I have had more fun this evening than I've had in my entire life."

"I'm glad, Melly," Scarlett replied as she steered her into the guest bedroom and helped her to lie down on the bed.

"Such a lovely room," Melly said, her eyes closing as she nodded off.

Scarlett smirked slightly, deciding to let her sleep it off. She'll wake up with a splitting headache, she thought with puckish mirth, both of them will, and then I shall laugh at Rosie for making fun me all these months.

She then withdrew to her own room and doffed her gown and shoes before stretching out on her own bed. Drowsily, she thought to herself, poor Rhett Butler, perhaps he's not as much of a cad as everyone supposes. With that, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift off into sweet, relaxing slumber, the best she had enjoyed in quite some time…

**A/N:** _If anyone is wondering why Ashley and Luke weren't in attendance at the ball, it's because they are only captains (if I remember correctly, Ashley was promoted to major after the Pennsylvania campaign) rather than legion commanders and generals. The fall/winter of 1861-2 was fairly uneventful as far as battles; the Army of Northern Virginia (Confederate) and the Army of the Potomac (Union) are setting up for a face-off for Richmond, the Confederate capitol/major supply hub. Also, the reason Rhett isn't "Captain" Butler yet is because I just assumed that he got into the blockade-running business once the Yankees instigated the blockade in spring-ish 1862. _

_Apologies for the character assassination of Rhett's brother; he and the dastardly Villeré will come into play very soon…since I had already departed from GWTW (thank you, sohhkb, I'm embracing it now!), I just decided to use Rhett's brother as the second villain. Any comments/feedback are greatly appreciated! _

_To Nadya-girl and ScarlettLovesRhett, Charles has always been one of my favorites as well, even though I'm all for the R & S pairing; at least in my story he can have a personality, as well as a bit of the glory MM cheated him out of! _


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was an unusually fine day, sunny and especially warm for October. A gentle breeze was wafting in through the shutters which kept the windows shaded. It was a day meant for strolling hand and hand with a beau toward the direction of a secluded bower, most certainly not for moping about indoors; however, Scarlett found herself doing exactly that. Rosemary and Melanie had been at the hospital since dawn. There had been a outbreak of camp fever amongst the troops which had swelled the hospital's occupancy, but Scarlett's condition exempted her from the otherwise mandatory nursing duty. She sighed heavily and returned to the task she had been assigned by Rosemary, that of choosing which social engagements they should accept and which they should graciously refuse. An elegantly penned note from Colonel Hampton's wife was among those they would be obliged to accept. Scarlett took another glance at the pile in front of her. They had been inundated with invitations from nearly every single officer's wife, and there were not enough days left the year to accept every single one. Besides, she thought as she cast a dubious glance at her midsection, I don't have that much longer before I'll have to stop accepting them at all.

Charlie was due to arrive in Richmond sometime before Christmas, and from his letters, she learned that he was now second-in-command of his cavalry unit, and in that capacity, had been promoted to major. He was excelling as a commanding officer, and thankfully, his commitments to training each new batch of recruits kept him far away from the camp fever.

Rhett Butler, on the other hand, she had not heard from since the Davis's ball. Rosemary had mentioned something about him purchasing a shipping company, but to what end, none of them could gather. It's Rhett, Rosemary had said with a shrug, there's neither rhyme nor reason to anything he does! And then there was Ashley. Melanie had been a guest of theirs a little over a month and he'd not made even one sojourn into town to visit his wife. Melanie was quick to make excuses for him, but disappointment was written all over her face. It's because of me, Scarlett thought sadly, Ashley can't bear to face me after what happened in Columbia.

Surprisingly, even without Ashley, Scarlett had come to the realization that she was happy at Richmond, happier perhaps than she had been in her entire life. She had never enjoyed the sorts of close friendships that she did with Rosemary and Melanie, and Rhett too, scoundrel that he was! Rosemary and Melly were looking forward to the baby's arrival with great enthusiasm, and they began to compile large lists of acceptable names for either gender. The townhouse had not been built with three women and a baby in mind, so they had designated the drawing room as a temporary nursery. Although it was mainly furnished with new pieces from the most fashionable shops, Scarlett's parents had spent a fortune shipping her old cradle from the attic at Tara, which of course brought tears to her eyes whenever she thought on it…

Curtis frowned as he glanced down at the breakfast tray he had brought to Miss Scarlett an hour earlier and had just returned to fetch back to the kitchen. "Ain't choo feelin' well, Miz Scahlett?"

"Oh yes, very fine," Scarlett readily assured the kindly old servant, unwilling to acknowledge her tears and elicit more questions. "I feel better than I have in some days now."

"Iffen yah sure, Miz Scahlett. Yah gots a vis'tah, but Ah kin tell 'em to yah ti'ed."

Scarlett was put to task imagining who could possibly be calling. "Show the visitor to the parlor, then, please. I'll be down directly."

She glanced in the long mirror to take account of her appearance. Her peach gown would have been pretty if not for the burden she was carrying. The sleeves were closely fitted, and a trio of pleated flounces cascaded in tiers down the skirt. Rosemary had brushed her long black hair the night before until it gleamed, and Scarlett had pinned it neatly around the top of her head. She sighed. She wasn't necessarily thrilled about receiving callers in this lamentable state, but at least she wasn't the worst looking mother-to-be she had ever seen.

Nervously smoothing her hair and gown as she walked down the stairs, she thought that perhaps Charlie had come home early. Rhett wouldn't have waited for Curtis to announce his presence. Her sweeping gaze fell over the room and ended on the settee, for it was where she found Ashley. He was as fair haired as ever, his finely-boned face now devoid of the beard he had donned on their previous meeting. Here was her cavalier, her knight in shining armor.

When his grey eyes fell upon her, it was as if all reason had left him. Then, with a start, he recalled his manners and snatched off his cavalry hat, blushing as he did so. "Your pardon, Scarlett, for my intrusion. I thought to find Melanie here, as well."

The color in his cheeks flushed to a deeper red as he realized his blunder. A small frown flitted across Scarlett's face and her brows gathered.

"Melly and Rosemary are at the hospital."

Ashley acted a bit stymied by her curt tone, and a moment of silence passed between them as they each entertained the memories of what had occurred at their previous meeting.

"Did you know that you were with child when you went to Columbia, Scarlett?" Ashley stared intently into her astounded visage as he made his authoritarian inquiry. "You did, didn't you? And then you came here? You foolish, foolish girl!"

Scarlett was speechless for a moment until she finally blurted. "What right do you have to question any decision I make? You're not my husband!"

If she had thought he blushed before, she learned that it was nothing compared to what he did at that statement.

"I am aware of that fact." Ashley heaved a wavering sigh. "And besides that, I had best be going. My regiment is going to Leesburg tomorrow. General Beauregard believes that the Yankees will attempt to attack the Winchester turnpike and…well…"

"So soon?"

"Yes," he said. "You are well, Scarlett?"

Deciding that it would be unwise to mention to him that her knees had melted into the floor, Scarlett gave him a quick nod. "Yes, thank you."

For several moments they attempted polite conversation, yet she noticed that he refused to meet her gaze.

"I should leave," he said.

"Ashley!" she cried. "Wait, please. Won't you kiss me goodbye?"

He was so very close to her and he took her shaking hand in his and kissed it.

"I can't stop there, Scarlett." It took her a moment to realize where she was leading him, and when she did so, she panicked. It was too little, too late.

Turning her palm upward, he kissed it in a slow, caressing manner that made her feel short of breath.

"I don't think you should have done that," she whispered.

Ashley's expression was grim. "Neither do I." Without another word, he grabbed his hat and exited through the front door. Long moments passed as Scarlett stood in frozen shock. She had always dreamed about placing herself in a compromising position with him, and she had…and he had…but he was Melly's husband, and she was Charles's wife. It could never happen again. She should have been grieved to watch him leave; instead, she felt only a sharp surge of relief.

With a broken sob, Scarlett fled to her room and slammed the door behind her. She flung herself onto her bed and poured out her anguish into the muffling softness of the pillow. It all seemed too much for her to bear, all of her fear and her love for Ashley culminating into that brief interlude of passion that was her secret and her torment. Now he was gone, and if he died then Melanie's heart would break and she, Scarlett, would have to live with the guilt of sending him away. That and, she didn't love him anymore! The deep, hungry heartache of loving him had vanished just like that, and she was left with an even greater sense of loss, as though Ashley had died. Did I never really love him at all?

Scarlett's tears ebbed only by the onslaught of sleep, but it was nightmarish in nature. She was running through a dark house with Ashley and Rhett following hard at her heels while flashes of light burst all around her. Ashley swooped down on her, a black sheet in hand. He pulled it across her face, and she couldn't breathe. She looked for Rhett, but he was gone, long vanished into the wind…

"Scarlett!"

With a muffled cry, Scarlett came upright off of her pillow, attempting to fling away the hands that were grabbing her arms. "No you can't! I'm not ready to die! Rhett! Come back!"

"Scarlett! Darling, wake up!" the familiar voice soothed. "You've been dreaming, my dear, come now."

Scarlett glanced about wildly. Had all the events from the Twelve Oaks barbeque onward been a dream? Had she ever seen Rhett Butler again? Perhaps she wasn't even married…

Her eyes fell upon Rosemary first, then Melly, and the desire to fling her arms around the thin shoulders of her sister-in-law almost tore her from the bed, but her conscience burned and she hastily pulled back with a moan.

"Lie down, Scarlett." Melanie said softly. "Rest a moment until your thoughts come clear. It frightened us so to hear your screams."

Startled that she had cried out in her sleep, Scarlett stared up at her in confusion. She turned her face aside as tears gathered in her eyes. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Shh, sweet Scarlett," Rosemary thought to calm her. "Don't even think on it. We're back now."

"Oh Rosemary, perhaps we shouldn't have left her alone for so long."

"I'm fine!" Scarlett insisted, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "How was everyone in town?"

"Luke's told us the most wonderful news. The boys are having a little get together down at the camp on Sunday night and we're all invited. He says that Colonel Cobb's giving out bottles of spirits like candy and there'll be music and dancing!"

"How exciting," Scarlett said dully.

"Well you have to come, darling."

"If she's not feeling up to it, Rosemary, perhaps…"

"Don't be a goose, Melly. You haven't seen your man since you've been here and just think what a surprise it'll be!"

"I _would _dearly love to see Ashley."

Scarlett chafed as Melanie said his name. It was as though the very thought of him had become completely repugnant and she was subconsciously rebelling against it within her mind…

"And we must go right away to Mrs. McGrew's right away. I still have some green silk taffeta…oh Scarlett, I was saving it for your Christmas present, but you don't mind if I find something else for you, do you? Oh and Melly, I must let you borrow my Saint Cecilia dress. We can have Mrs. McGrew take it up in the bust for you, but the color is divine…"

"Won't you come with us, Scarlett darling?" Melanie giggled as Rosemary continued to chatter. "It would aide me tremendously to have a calmer companion at my side."

"Oh Melly, I'll make a spitfire out of you yet."

Scarlett looked distressed. "Won't Mrs. McGrew be remiss about me coming into her shop while I'm so far along?"

"You're looking absolutely beautiful, dear," Rosemary said with fervor. "And you know how she loves to gossip; she'll be thrilled to hear each and every exquisite gynecological detail."

"Rosemary!" Scarlett and Melanie said in shocked voices.

"What? Well she will, won't she? Let's go, ladies. And you both look lovely as you are, so we can be off straightaway…"

Rhett Butler had concluded his business with his solicitor and was just leaving the man's office when he espied a familiar looking carriage pulling up at the telegraph office.

"Now hurry up, Melly!" Rosemary was calling out from the inside of the carriage.

With a wide smile on his face, Rhett moved around the back of the coach and tapped on the door with his walking stick.

"Well, well, if it isn't himself! Have you ever seen such a peacock, Scarlett? Strutting about like a dandy while all our poor fine boys are dressed in rags! For shame, Rhett Butler!"

"I'm merely doing my civic duty by entertaining the lovely ladies of the Confederacy," he grinned. He was handsomely attired, Scarlett noted, his white shirt and cravat immaculate under his navy-and-grey plaid coat.

"Mr. Butler, how dapper you look," Melanie allowed him to kiss her hand. "I've just sent a wire to my Aunt Pittypat in Atlanta. We received a letter from my brother Charlie yesterday, and it does her good to hear that he's well and safe."

"Mrs. Wilkes, a pleasure. And Mrs. Hamilton as well. I'm very happy to hear of Captain Hamilton's continued good health."

"Well he's Major Hamilton, now," Melanie chirped proudly. "Tell Mr. Butler, Scarlett. He received a commendation from General Lee himself."

"We're on our way to the dressmakers' at this very moment; if you'd like to hear about it, by all means come along, brother." Rosemary hurriedly exited the coach and motioned for them to follow her.

"However could I resist such a winsome invitation on such a fine day? But might I inquire as to the occasion befitting new gowns…surely they aren't having any socials this week? I was under the impression that we were fighting a war."

"We are."

"But Lieutenant Bonham is still here?"

"Possibly."

"Dearest little sister, if you're planning on sneaking out to the encampment to see your beloved, I must urge you strongly to reconsider."

"They're having a social at the church Sunday night, if it's any of your affair."

"I see. I can assure you that no lady of quality will be at the _church _on Sunday evening. I know what kind of little shindig the army whores are throwing and I know where they're throwing it. Apologies, Mrs. Wilkes, but my sister only understands my meaning when I speak plainly."

"You're one to talk about people of quality! Why, Mother can barely hold her head up at home because of you!"

He looked only slightly wounded at her words, and winked broadly. "My shortcomings are not an excuse for you to behave badly. Engaged or not, you're an unmarried girl and you're walking into a camp of uninhibited soldiers. Luke can't hold them all off, Rosemary. Now, I want to know if you've engaged your comrades in arms to aide you in this folly." He turned his gaze upon Melly, who quailed under it. His dark eyes blazing, he rounded upon Scarlett. "At least your own husbands aren't stationed in such close proximity, although I do believe that neither of them would brook such foolishness. Now Mrs. Wilkes, since I take you for the most sensible of this little triumvirate, I will charge you with seeing to it that Scarlett and my sister stay at home this evening and for the rest of the week. I have it on good authority that our boys are preparing for another battle; they'll be in uncompromising moods and I would not have any of you three in harm's way. Ah…" he paused as he cast a pointed glance at Scarlett's belly, which she was furiously trying to conceal underneath her shawl, "I meant the four of you…"

Rosemary fixed a cold glower upon her brother, which earned her only a bland smile in response.

"Mrs. Wilkes?" he addressed Melanie. "If I may have your word?"

"Of course, Mr. Butler," Melanie's face was crestfallen as she spoke, but Scarlett and Rosemary both knew that she meant it.

"I'm sorry to offend your tender sensibilities, ladies, but do believe me when I say that it was for your own good."

His lips curled upward into a wider grin, and he saw them to the dressmaker's, then assumed an air of catlike grace and strolled back out through the doors he had strolled through only moments before.

"I have a feeling that your brother doesn't trust us anymore," Scarlett finally let her breath out in a relieved sigh.

Rosemary's eyebrows flicked upward. "Did you think he ever did? Rhett trusts no one, and demands absolute loyalty in exchange for his love…a hard bargain, in my humble opinion."

"He means well," Melanie said firmly. "And if it's that dangerous, then perhaps we shouldn't go after all."

Rosemary merely shrugged her shoulders and the topic was abandoned for the duration of the afternoon…

The following Sunday, Scarlett was napping early in the evening when she was snatched suddenly from her rest by the sound of muffled voices in the hallway.

"Don't go, Rosemary!" Melanie was saying. "Your brother forbade it and even if he hadn't, do you really think you ought to?"

"I promised Luke, Melly. Oh Melly, you can't be sensible all the time. We only have one life, all of us! I'm going to live mine in the here and now."

Scarlett peeked her head out of the doorway. "If you're going, then so am I."

A devilish grin appeared on Rosemary's lips at the suggestion. "Really, Scarlett? Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

Scarlett flashed her a coy smile. "Never better. So long as you're sure that your brother won't go searching us out."

"He won't," Rosemary tossed her head back and laughed with hearty amusement. "He's long gone. He's sailing that wretched new boat of his to Havana and back. I told him that I hoped he choked on one of the fancy cigars he always returns with."

"Well in that case…Melly?"

Melanie sighed, seeing that she was overruled. "Well, maybe for a few minutes…"

**A/N: **_Instead of an epically long chapter, I split this one into two parts. Part 2 (aka Chapter 8, will be up in the next few days). __First of all, thank you to Lara for lending your historical expertise. I'm trying to make it as accurate as possible while still making the narrative enjoyable. __For all you Civil War buffs, Ashley's regiment will participate in the Battle of Balls Bluff in Leesburg, which is about 125 miles from Richmond. The significance of that battle is that it results in a Confederate victory in a city about 30 miles outside of Washington, which is of course is terrifying to the Yankees. __The remainder of the Army of Northern Virginia is still parked outside of Richmond to provide a buffer in case of an attack on the capital, besides the added benefit of being close to the main supply hub during the winter months. _

_To my very nice anonymous reviewer, I absolutely agree with everything you said about Charles; I hope I'll be able to do him justice when he shows up in the next chapter. __(I have a major soft spot for him, so he'll definitely be around to see Wade Hampton born). __BlaqueCat13, never fear, you'll hear plenty from Villeré next chapter. _

_As always, any comments/feedback are greatly appreciated! I really do read them and love them and take them to heart. _


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **_I really do take all comments I receive to heart, so I've taken a great deal of time re-working this story to make it more accurately reflect the "spirit" of the novel. That being said, I am definitely no Margaret Mitchell…Please keep the comments coming, as they help me become a better writer and tell a better story! _

Chapter 8

The foul stench of the river intensified as the three girls neared the camp. Rosemary kept them close to the river, walking relentlessly onward until they could make out a collection of hastily made up tents and smallish camp fires, along the sides of which men were huddled together, warming their fingers as they dried their blankets, sodden from the previous days' rain. Although many of the men tipped their hats in greeting as they passed, Scarlett knew that they were seriously tempting fate by parading through an army of men, especially herself, in such a state. Whatever would her mother think!

Rosemary was oblivious to it all, obeying a desire to see her beloved so powerful that it could not be curbed; but Melanie was wringing her little hands in dismay, worrying aloud that they would be mistaken for women of loose virtue. Scarlett had no real sense of how far they had come, but her feet had begun to drag wearily as she rounded the unsteady curve around the bank, and she almost slipped and took Melanie down with her. Here they were, cold and exhausted, fingers numb from the chilly air, and having no gentleman to escort them. What man looking at her now would even want to escort her, she thought bitterly, much less allow her to make such as spectacle of herself. It had been such a stupid idea, even to her, but they were there and somehow…some way…she must grin and bear it and make it home unnoticed.

"There!" Rosemary called out, "look at the big tent on the opposite side of the hill! That's where we're headed."

"Scarlett can't walk any further," Melanie declared. "And I must say, Rosemary, this was not at all the sort of function you described. Why, we probably are the only ladies here!"

Rosemary smirked, "Well there are the bolder types…those that'd offer their bodies to the soldiers or any man willing to part with a few bucks."

Melanie looked appalled, but Scarlett was cognizant to the fact that such women did indeed exist, and that many of them did their business along the back alley of the hospital.

"Don't worry, Melly," she tapped the other's hand, "it's not so very far."

Melanie looked as though she wanted to argue, but she temporarily pushed aside her cautioning logic as she hurried to catch Rosemary. The tents that they passed were dark, probably due to the fact that candles and lamp oil were scarce. Scarlett couldn't help but to think of the camp bad women, and if Charles or Ashley took advantage of their services…surely not!

Melanie and Scarlett stumbled along after Rosemary, tottering unsteadily over the rocky terrain towards the beacon of light coming from a large, open tent. As they reached the place, the two married women stayed outside the throng of dancing soldiers; both their mouths hanging open at the sight of the women inside. They wore no pantalets, that much was obvious as their skirts flew upwards, revealing shapely legs. The men were fighting over them, for there were at least twenty of them for every woman.

Melanie shook her head in disbelief. "These men cannot be our boys. Our boys wouldn't behave so. Oh, Scarlett! Why did we come? Why did I think that Ashley would be here?"

Ordinarily, Scarlett would have shushed her sister-in-law, but it made her cringe too. There were officers shouting obscenities, brandishing their pistols, while others were talking at the top of their voices in an attempt to be heard over the discord and the music. There was no soft waltz or cheery reel-this was wild music-and the dancers might as well have been foreign savages worshipping some strange idol of debauchery. A few were laughing uproariously as they made a game of pinching and slapping the ample bottom of a buxom blonde, breasts fully exposed as she held her hand out for money, which was thrown her way eagerly.

Scarlett held onto Melanie's hand tightly as she scanned the tent for Rosemary.

"There she is, over there," Melanie said wearily, "there with her fiancé."

Indeed, she was nestled in a corner with Luke Bonham, allowing him to caress her idly while she was muttering something in his ear in a low tone.

"Scarlett, we have to get out of here," Melanie whispered, her heart-shaped face pale. "If anyone should hear about it…Oh my dear, we would be in ever so much trouble. I couldn't stand it if I had to face Ashley and Charlie if they knew that we had witnessed such a thing."

Scarlett felt her belly quicken, thinking that what Rosemary and Luke were doing in the corner was closer to what she had always thought would have created a child. Tender kissing, touching, lovers' caresses…All she had gotten was Charles Hamilton and his fumbling hands and his awkward words, and now she had his child growing within her. Rosemary was _much _smarter than she was!

They had barely passed into the throng of people when Scarlett felt a hand seize her.

"Well, Hell's bells!" the drunk soldier cried with a chortle, bringing the attention of his companions to bear upon her and Melanie. "What've we got here, boys?"

"Couple a' ladies!" another exclaimed lustily as he caught hold of Scarlett's shawl and whipped it free of her shoulders, in the process breaking one of the ties that had secured it. His eyes steadily brightened into a leer as they swept over the soaked gown, which clung to her generous curves. "Nice and wet, but a looker, eh. I bet you're a real belle, eh, sweet thing?"

"Shut yer trap, you horny bastard," the first man cuffed the other. "I found 'em. I get first dibs."

"Yer awful perty," a third man ran a finger on Melanie's cheek, which caused her to shudder and let out an awful little choked cry.

"We'll share 'em!"

"Keep your foul hands to yourself, sir. If I was not aware that you had never come into the presence of ladies in your entire life, I would take pleasure in cutting out your wormy tongues. As it happens, I need your worthless bodies in the front lines, so I shall lengthen your life by ordering you back to your own tents. Now."

"But Colonel, real ladies wouldn't take and be seen here-"

"If I wish you to think, soldier, I will tell you. Go. Now!"

Lanterns flickered dully at the edge of Scarlett's blurring vision, but she felt the hands release her shoulders and Melanie's death grip on her hand slackened somewhat.

"Now, would the two of you ladies be so kind as to explain the reason for your presence here? Has there been some disaster, perhaps?"

The man's voice was clear and resonant, his French roots faintly accented in his speech. He had an unruly thatch of black hair, bushy side-whiskers, and a chin stubbed by bristles, as though he had not been afforded an opportunity to be barbered recently. But his uniform was a splendid shade of scarlet trimmed with grey velvet, brass buttons gleaming in the lamplight.

"Well, well, it is Mrs. Hamilton, is it not? Rhett Butler's companion whom I spoke to so rudely without knowing your identity. It seems, Madame, that you put yourself in, shall we say, indelicate positions? Though it would appear-" he paused as he held out her shawl that he had snatched back from her would-be admirer and wrapped it around her shoulders, "-that you are in a very _delicate _state, Mrs. Hamilton. I must see you shown back to the city."

Melanie looked likely to collapse in the man's arms with gratitude, but Rosemary had spotted them and appeared instantly on Scarlett's other side.

"What are you doing here?"

"Such rudeness, Rosemary. Tut, tut! And after I have just saved your friends from an ignominious fate at the hands of the ill-bred swine I've been assigned to lead. Not unlike your Mr. Bonham. Disgraceful, Rosemary. I shudder to think of my former sister by marriage playing whore to a farmer. When you are connected by marriage to the greatest families in Louisiana. If you would reconsider my suite, you could be connected even further…"

She blinked several times, her eyes smoldering with fury at his insinuation. "Over my grave."

"Well, think on it, mon chere. Officers live much longer than infantrymen, so I can safely assume that Bonham will be long dead before the war's end. Ladies." He bowed, flashing Rosemary one more malicious smirk as he returned to the group of guffawing officers.

"Son of a bitch." Rosemary declared.

"Rosemary!" Melanie shook her, "we have to get out of here. We have to!"

"I'll ask Luke to walk us home," Rosemary nodded, her voice dull.

"That won't be necessary," a male voice fairly growled behind Scarlett.

One quick look at Charles's face was enough to convince his sister and his wife that he was absolutely furious with both of them. Not only were his brown eyes glinting with icy shards, but the muscles in his cheeks were tensing to a degree that not even Melanie had ever seen before.

"Just tell me one damn thing," his frustration was supreme, "I would be most interested to know why you three ladies decided to traipse down here unprotected and at night to keep company with soldiers."

His words cut Scarlett like a knife; of course he wouldn't understand that she had been bored and restless! Melanie could blame her recklessness on her desire to see Ashley and Rosemary on hers to see Luke, but Scarlett had no excuse! That _and _she was visibly with child-this man's child. And now she had been discovered by her angry husband, as if she just been caught taking off with a secret lover.

"I would be much obliged if you both would follow me. You too, Miss Rosemary."

Agog with an unwilling fascination at her husband's commanding presence, Scarlett took his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the tent, Melanie and Rosemary in tow, each silent as the grave.

When they reached the house, Melanie opened her mouth as if she had hoped to catch him calmed down, but his icy glared silenced his sister and she fled up the stairs, tears in her eyes. Rosemary cast Scarlett a sympathetic glance, but she had no choice but to follow Melanie and leave Scarlett to deal with her own husband.

"Was it your design to endanger the lives of yourself and our child in every conceivable way this evening?" he said as they entered the privacy of the parlor.

"I didn't think of it like that!" Scarlett blurted out. "Rosie was going, and Melly wanted to, so I thought it was perfectly appropriate for me to-"

"Appropriate, hell!" he snarled. "I just thank God that Captain Butler had the foresight to write to me with word that you might attempt to go into the camp with his sister. And I left everything just to come back and intercept you. I even had to beg Colonel Hampton a loan of a mount in my haste to find you. But I must admit, I did not think that you would have been so utterly thoughtless."

"I didn't think it…" her voice was quivering. "I didn't think it would matter."

"Well, it did matter, Scarlett. It did."

Scarlett watched him warily. In the months he had been on his own, Charles Hamilton had changed in ways she was just beginning to comprehend. Only superficial traces of the boy she had married remained. He was a much more determined man than she had imagined him to become, one who had to only glance at her to make her keenly aware of his disapproval. He had grown comfortable in his position of authority and accustomed to having his wishes instantly carried out. By agreeing to marry him, she was essentially under his control, and as such, he had an absolute right to keep her locked in a room for the duration of her pregnancy for shaming him so.

Footsteps swiftly descending from the stairway turned his eyes towards the open door of the parlor, where Melanie and Rosemary stood anxiously.

"So there you are." Charles addressed them caustically.

Scarlett almost felt sorry for Melanie, but she was far more worried for herself and what might be forthcoming from her husband. She waited in trepidation as Charles turned his gaze toward the window, as though he could not bear to look at her any longer. His long legs rigid, she moved to leave the room. She started as his voice broke the silence between them.

"Why did you do it?" he said without turning around. "Did you not consider the risks?"

"I was wrong," she admitted, seeing no advantage in arguing with him. "You've changed," she stated plainly.

"So have you," he murmured. "Or perhaps I'm only now seeing the real you."

Scarlett could feel heat rising to her scalp at his insinuation. She did not like it, but she wasn't certain how to contest it.

"I'm sorry," she moaned miserably. "Please, Charlie…don't be angry."

He turned toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't cry, darling. Although your eyes look like crystals when you do…I'm not angry with you. But I won't risk any more harm coming to you of your own making. I'm writing Colonel Hampton for permission to remain in Richmond through the holidays."

A stab of regret passed through Scarlett's mind as she realized his presence would mean absolute seclusion through the rest of her pregnancy; yet, after the evening's events, she had no desire to venture out further. But she would miss Rhett and his gifts…the hard lump in Scarlett's throat threatened to dissolve into a flood of tears as Charles left the parlor, pausing at the doorway to murmur a few words to Melanie, who was bawling her eyes out. She heard the thump of his boots travel up the stairs and his voice call out for Curtis that he would have a bath, lest he dirty his wife's bed. The servant responded that the warm water would be brought up directly, and Scarlett sat frozen until she heard the bedroom door close again, this time with a firmness that had with it a definite ring of finality.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Damn it!_ Rhett Butler mentally growled. Damn her and damn Ashley Wilkes and damn Frank Kennedy for bringing him to that damn barbeque! Despite his best efforts, however, he couldn't bring himself to hate her delicate but unfaltering husband. Charles _could_ have died in camp, could have left Scarlett an eligible widow-seducing her would have been too easy. For perhaps the thousandth time, Rhett inspected the front door of his townhouse from the window of the one he had let out across the street. Charles Hamilton had spent the last half an hour adorning the door with greenery and red velvet bows, a surprise for his darling, pregnant wife. _Goddamn it!_ The darkness consuming Rhett's heart deepened steadily as he watched Charles cheerfully work.

Finally giving up on the idea of catching a glimpse of her, he finally slumped into a chair behind his desk, staring at a sheaf of papers he had set aside as requiring his immediate attention.

He had purchased an ailing shipping company under an assumed name, hastily establishing himself as the best and most reliable purveyor of Charleston cotton to the businessmen both up North and across the pond. A vessel sat at port in Nassau and another off the Florida coast, ready and willing to run the blockade the Yankees had spent the winter threatening to impose upon the Southern coastline.

A tiny nagging voice of conscience plagued him, the voice of his father perhaps, reminding him that neither Charles Hamilton nor Ashley Wilkes would ever partake in such unsavory an act as profiteering. Slamming down another glass of brandy, Rhett scolded himself internally. He was no gentleman. He had no honor. And he was a damned fool for owning any regrets at all.

And then there was that woman, holed up in his house, no doubt growing round from carrying another man's child. Had she wasted even a moment's breath of notice before accepting Charles Hamilton's proposal? Had her desperation to be connected with Ashley in any way possible driven her to make such a mistake? Had she, even for an instant, considered an alternative? Fie, Rhett Butler! He laughed to himself. You're an old man, older than her own mother. You've had enough women in your time, besides, women more beautiful than her, and infinitely more intelligent. You've always been able to keep yourself from falling for one, and now you're paying for it. In love with a married, pregnant woman. Oh, it was laughable! He was now in a mood to set the Confederate capitol on its ear. He'd drown himself in females, wallow in them, sate every urge he'd ever felt and then some. He wouldn't stop until he was damned good and numb. Maybe by then her brat would be born and her husband would miraculously drop dead from the measles…

"Scarlett!" Charles Hamilton called from the foyer. "I've finished the doorway. Melly? Melly? Come down here and see what you think."

Melly stuck her dark head over the banister with a finger to her lips.

"She's sound asleep, Charlie, do be quiet."

"Is she alright?" Charlie inquired worriedly.

"Quite well. Just very tired these days. I think she's worried that the baby may come before Christmas. That and she's so sad to be away from her parents and Tara. She's so brave, Charlie, I just wish I could be more like her."

Charlie's heart swelled with tenderness as he looked down at his baby sister. Melly had grown into her own woman since she had left their Aunt Pitty's care, under the tutelage of Scarlett and Rosemary Butler, and although the fact that his wife and sister were boon companions was a comfort to Charlie, he hoped sincerely that Melly would not alter her own gentle nature. Ashley was off fighting in Northern Virginia, and the last thing Charlie wanted was for his dear cousin and brother-in-law to return to the woman he loved to find her completely different from the woman he had left behind. Charlie knew about that feeling firsthand; he had been rather surprised himself at Scarlett's Irish temper and steel backbone. But underneath it all still lurked the tender, innocent female he had taken to wife; not to mention that she was carrying their child, whom he loved with all of his heart. He had had to adapt his methods for handling his spirited wife, but all in all, he couldn't have been happier with the result.

"I think that you are very like her, Melly, very much so. I suppose you'd better hurry if we're to make evening service. I'll go and make sure that Scarlett doesn't need anything to eat before we depart." Charlie kissed his sister on the forehead and sent her off to her bedroom, which she shared with Rosemary now that they had set aside the guest room for the nursery. He then tiptoed quietly over the creaking floorboards so as not to wake Scarlett and peered quietly into her open bedroom door, where he stood for a long moment gazing at her delicate features. She seemed untroubled by her dreams and, to him, like an innocent, sleeping angel. How could any man look upon such a vision and desire to disturb it? It was a tempting idea to place a hand on her mounded belly in hopes of being rewarded by a kick, but he'd hold off until she was awake. There was no sense in waking her when she had clearly managed a comfortable position for the first time in several nights.

"I love you," he murmured, then glanced down at his watch and crept softly out of her bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Rhett had concluded what he considered to be a reasonable amount of work and was just leaving for the evening when he espied Charles Hamilton helping Mrs. Wilkes and Rosemary into a carriage. They were off to evening church service and the ensuing social, had to be…after all, it was Christmas Eve. He quickly concluded that there was no possible way for Scarlett to be with them; after all, she was nearly eight months gone with child, by his calculations. She'd be spending Christmas Eve alone.

He hastened to lock up his safe and fetched his coat and top hat before cheerfully descending the back steps and exiting the hotel room. Seeing Charles's carriage safely heading in the direction of town, Rhett gave a self-satisfied laugh and adjusted his cravat before marching directly over to his townhouse.

Scarlett herself had awoken to a growing discomfort in her back. God's nightgown, she was as big as a house!

The sound of a loud rapping on the door roused her from her thoughts, and she heaved herself up from the bed and gathered her robe, a poor attempt at modesty. Perhaps Charlie had forgotten something…Curtis had been dismissed for the evening to spend Christmas with his family…or could it be Ashley, home for a brief furlough?

Once she would have rather died than to allow herself to be seen by him in such a condition; however, she was so incredibly tired and sore, it didn't seem to matter. She walked very slowly down the steps, holding tightly to the handrail. She would send Ashley on to the church and she would go back to bed before they all could get home and fuss over her.

She reached for the door and opened it.

"Rhett!" she mumbled, pulling her robe tightly about her figure. "Whatever are you doing here?"

His eyebrows lifted in sharp surprise as he saw her state of undress. "My dear Mrs. Hamilton, I seem to have disturbed you. I'll leave now."

"No!" Scarlett cried, more pleadingly than she had meant. "I mean, you didn't disturb me. It's just that I was here by myself, and I wasn't expecting anyone…"

"Would you like me to come in?" Rhett said, his voice filled with tenderness. "I hate to invite myself."

"Please," Scarlett sighed heavily. "I'd like the company."

Despite her initial embarrassment about being seen in such a state, she sat down on the settee and he in the armchair across from her.

"I would offer you tea, but I'm…" her voice trailed off as a tear ran down her smooth white cheek.

Rhett stood up and quickly gathered her in his arms, allowing her to sob freely into his shoulder. "What is it, honey? What is it, Scarlett?"

"I'm scared, Rhett! And I want Mother and she's so far away. I just want to go home to Mother and Tara and I can't! And Charlie's so happy about the baby and Melly and Rosemary too! And I just want to scream because I just want to go home and be young and go to Christmas parties! And I'm stuck here and I don't have Mother or Mammy with me!"

He continued to rock her gently and stroke her long black hair as she continued to sob.

"You're so young, Scarlett. You have plenty of time to catch up on your youth. I promise you that. Having a baby doesn't make you any less beautiful. Rather, in my experience, motherhood is rather becoming on most women. As for Mr. Hamilton, he's just excited about the prospect of becoming a father. Any man would be. Even me!"

"You? A father?" she laughed through her tears.

"Even me, yes. I must confess to you, dear Scarlett, I've long harbored the idea of having offspring on which to dote. If only I were a marrying man," he said teasingly, "…or if I could find a woman worth marrying."

Scarlett smiled. "Heaven help the woman that ends up with you, Rhett Butler. Rosemary's told me all about your misadventures. I must say, I had thought you were a noble character!"

He raised a dark eyebrow. "I must have a word with my little sister, slandering me so!"

Suddenly, Scarlett let out a loud cry, shocking Rhett as she leaned forward into his arms.

"Rhett!" she moaned. "Rhett!"

"What?" he said, horror filling him as he recognized the pain in her voice.

"It's…It hurts," she looked up at him, her face flushed with embarrassment.

He glanced down at her open robe, observing spots of bloody discoloration on her exposed nightgown.

"You're bleeding, Scarlett - oh don't worry - I think that's what happens."

"Rhett, I'm frightened. Rhett! I don't know what to do and I can't do it by myself, Rhett."

"I need to get you a doctor. Yes, a doctor or a midwife."

"No! You can't leave me here by myself, you _can't_!"

"Alright," he said shakily. "I won't leave you. I won't. So, I suppose you need to lie down. The couch?"

"Upstairs?" she asked hopefully.

"Right," he mumbled. "Obviously, you'd be more comfortable in a bed."

He hurriedly took off his coat and hat and scooped her up in his arms. She was heavier than she looked!

"I'm sorry," she sniffed as she looped her arms around his neck. "Oh Rhett!"

"What?" he panicked at the sound of her urgent tone.

"It _hurts_!" she screamed, digging her nails into the exposed skin of his neck.

"I'm sorry, my pet," he looked down at her bewilderedly, unsure of what to say. "I promise to never allow your husband to touch you again, does that help?"

"I _hate_ him!" she screeched. "Where is he? Where's Melly? They do nothing but fuss over me day and night and see how they abandon me when I need them?"

"Do you want me to get them?"

"No! And don't you dare leave me!"

Rhett sighed heavily as he placed her gently on the bed and pulled off her soiled robe.

"Does the gown need to - come off?" he said gingerly.

"NO!"

"I'm sorry, Scarlett, I'm only trying to help."

"Mother said it could be hours, Rhett, hours. She wrote me. Yester-" whatever Scarlett had been saying was drowned out in her scream, which shook Rhett to his very soul as she nearly broke his hand from holding it.

"Hours," he sighed, "you don't say…"

In the ensuing minutes, the contractions seemed to intensify, and Scarlett made no effort to conceal her agony from poor Rhett, who had rolled up his sleeves and busied himself bathing her face with a damp cloth while he whispered words of encouragement.

"Stop talking about it!" she moaned. "Talk to me about something else!"

"The weather? It's very cold, likely to snow…"

"No!"

"What if I tell you about Mrs. Davis's dress? Maroon in color. Tacky bows all over the skirt."

Scarlett's eyes flickered with interest. "How did she look in it?"

"Like a complete _cow_." Rhett said with a smile.

Scarlett screamed again, squeezing Rhett's hand again in her tenacious grip. "Keep talking!" she managed through clenched teeth.

"Well…there was Mrs. Lee's vomit colored afternoon frock…"

It was almost an hour later before Melly, Charles, and Rosemary returned. Charles was temporarily in shock that Captain Butler was alone in his wife's bedchamber, but any anger he might have felt was temporarily abated when he realized that his wife was laboring to bring their child into the world and that Rhett had helped her through the early stages of her ordeal.

Melly took charge quickly, and banished Rhett and her brother henceforth from the bedroom, imploring Rhett to summon a physician immediately.

"I don't know if she'll wait for a doctor," Rosemary said shakily. "Rhett, run to the church and fetch Aunt Amelia. She'll be of more use than any damn doctor."

"What about me?" Charles asked with wide eyes.

"You can look for the doctor." Rosemary said dismissively. "Hurry!" With remarkable haste the two men set out on their missions, Rhett without even remembering to don his coat. He returned a remarkably short time later, his aunt in tow.

"For heaven's sake, Rhett," the matron was saying as she handed him her cloak. "You act as though this was your baby instead of Major Hamilton's."

"Just help her," Rhett said through clenched teeth, sitting down on the settee and pouring himself a stiff drink. When Charles came in with the stern-faced doctor behind him, Rhett stood up and poured another, which he handed to the younger man.

"Thank you," Charles sighed. "And thank you for being here this evening. God has smiled on us indeed, for bringing you into our lives. I believe this is the second time you've come between me and disaster."

An odd expression came over Rhett's face as feelings of intense guilt washed over him. Here was this eager, shy boy, absolutely in love with his beautiful young wife, and he, Rhett, had been imagining him dead. Fie, Rhett Butler!

"You have nothing to thank me for, Major. So, are you hoping for a boy or a girl?"

Probably a boy, Rhett thought to himself; in his own mind, he had rather hoped for a girl for Scarlett.

"It doesn't matter," Charles stammered as he sipped his drink. "As long as the child is healthy and well-formed and Scarlett is alright."

Again the burden of conscience flickered in Rhett's mind. Charles was clearly head over heels in love with his wife. He had to put Scarlett out of his mind, had to, had to…

Scarlett was straining for all she was worth back in the bedroom. Amelia Butler had completely taken charge, informing the doctor curtly that Scarlett was progressing just fine without his interference. Melly was busy fanning Scarlett, taking everything in. She had never seen a baby born before, but she had always dreamed of having a large family with Ashley. Rosemary, for her part, was attempting not to throw up all over Scarlett as her aunt asked her to hand her this or that.

"How long is she going to be in such pain?" Rosemary fretted.

"This is quick compared to most, Rosemary." Amelia said sagely. "Why, I believe that your mother was in labor with you for twenty-three hours."

"Oh God!" Scarlett moaned from the bed.

"Not to worry, Scarlett, dear. You won't be taking nearly that long."

Finally, they heard a muted squall, which caused Melly to cry out with excitement.

"Nearly there, Scarlett!"

Amelia smacked Scarlett lightly on the cheek. "Hang in there, dear! Don't you faint now, there's still the shoulders to come. Good Lord, it has to be a boy…"

"It's disgusting!" Rosemary averted her eyes.

"It's called childbirth, Rosemary. You'd be advised to remember what it looks like next time you and Captain Bonham are alone together."

"Noted, Auntie. Noted."

The baby let out an outraged squeal as he was freed from his mother and thrust into the waiting arms of his Aunt Melly, who was sobbing with joy as the hapless doctor assisted Mrs. Butler in cutting the cord and wiping the tiny face.

"A boy, Scarlett. A fine, healthy son," Mrs. Butler declared with fondness. "I'll send a wire to your parents this night. Your Pa will certainly be proud to hear of an O'Hara grandson, am I right?"

Scarlett smiled weakly, feeling nothing if not sleepy. "Pa'll be pleased," she said.

"If you've the strength, Scarlett," Amelia whispered, holding the swaddled bundle close as the doctor departed into the hallway, "I would advise you to feed the child yourself. The doctor will pitch a fit, as your mother would, were she here…But I insisted on it with my two youngest children - not only does it relieve the pain in your breasts, it promises for healthier children. It's just something to consider…"

Scarlett nodded, "but how do I?"

Amelia positioned the child at his mother's breast, allowing him to suckle his first meal.

Melly and Rosemary went together downstairs to give Charles and Rhett the news of the birth of Wade Hampton Hamilton.

"It's a boy, Charlie!" Melanie flew into her brother's arms. "A strong, handsome boy!"

"And Scarlett?" Charles asked hesitantly.

"She's fine," Rosemary said, "tired, but fine."

"Thank God," Charles said, genuinely thankful for his wife's safety. "May I go to her?"

"Soon, she needs rest," Rosemary patted the happy father on the back. "Though how she can sleep after that sort of trauma is beyond me."

"Was it that bad?" Rhett queried, still feeling keenly his own traumatic experience with Scarlett's labor.

"Yes," Rosemary said resoundingly.

"But it was beautiful," Melly countered. "I was blessed to be there."

"Melly, if you thought that what we witnessed was beautiful, I can no longer be your friend - for you, my dear are positively _insane_. Major Hamilton, if you love Scarlett as you profess, you will stay far away from her from now on."

Charles showed no sign of hearing Rosemary's remark, so enthralled was he by the sight of his son, whom Mrs. Butler had brought down.

"Rhett," Rosemary pulled her brother aside. "As always, you've overreached yourself…but tonight, you did a very good deed. Hard to believe."

"Indeed," Rhett sighed, feeling tight in the chest as he watched Charles Hamilton kiss Scarlett's tiny, mewling son, wishing for a split second that it was himself, not Charles, receiving all the congratulations.

**A/N: **_I promised not to abandon this story! It's a little bit confusing writing this along with my other one about Ella and Beau, but they are equally fun, and I've been honored by the feedback I've been getting from readers of both. If you're reading this one, have a look at that one - I always love getting comments/critique/etc… _


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"It's so quiet," Rosemary mused aloud. "Almost too quiet."

"I'm glad of it," Melly sighed. "My ears ache from all the shells, and the poor little baby can barely sleep."

Despite all the noise of the past several months, there had been no actual sign of the Yankees around Richmond. On his last furlough, more than a month before, Charles had relayed to them that he had come to the conclusion that the Yankees had most likely abandoned their initial aim of capturing Richmond, preferring instead to set up a defensive position around Washington.

But they had levied a blockade around the entire coast, extending it across the South and making it extremely difficult to buy anything from fabrics to foodstuffs, to furniture…But Rhett was seemingly making a fortune off his fleet schooners, which periodically slipped past the Yankee gunners around the Virginia coast and brought the girls their pick of woolens and laces, the latest fashions from New York and Paris.

The danger of his new profession might have frightened off some men, but not Rhett; he seemed to revel in his occupation, finally explaining to Scarlett and Rosemary that he was in very little real danger, offering generous compensation in every port for friendly Yankees who would agree to let his boats pass through their waters unmolested. At that, Rosemary and Scarlett both expected an increase in their shares of the bounty - and Rhett did not fail to impress - each new batch of cargo promised something delightful and new, each piece in a different color, one for Rosemary, one for Scarlett and one for Melanie. And Rhett was rich too now, far richer than before.

It would only be a matter of time before he's married, Rosemary predicted over dinner. There's no place in the world that he could hide that goodly a sum of money where some shrewd woman won't sniff it out. Scarlett, for her part, had laughed at her friend, feeling keenly the sting of dismay that Rhett could be married to anyone. She preferred him much better as he was, a single man who had become her stalwart in her husband's absence. Much like a beau, only more entertaining. But Rhett had said that it would only be a matter of time before the Yankees would show up at the gates of the capitol. By June, he'd predicted. And since he'd said it, it had been impossible for Melly to rest easy, day or night. She was always watching from the window and leery of Scarlett taking Wade far from home at all. After all, the Yankees could be lurking behind any tree, waiting to capture and subsequently torture them all.

Yet, in spite of the dangers, Rhett had endeavored to keep Melly and Scarlett and Rosemary entertained whenever he was able to visit, regaling them with the sordid details of his seafaring adventures, revealing far more than what was entirely proper. He was constantly bringing books for them to read, which none of them did but Melly.

Despite the worry that never strayed far from their minds, the months following Wade's birth passed pleasantly enough for the three young women, even if they did retire rather fairly early in the evening and wake in the middle of the night, their schedules all revolving around the smallest member of the household.

Scarlett smiled up at her sister-in-law from her place on the settee. "I think that it's you who can't sleep, Melly, not Wade. He's always sleeping. Well, since Miss Amelia brought over that goop to put on his gums."

The sudden crying of the baby caused all three women to burst into simultaneous laughter.

"He has good ears," Rosemary smirked. "Want me to get him?"

"He's probably hungry," Scarlett stood up. "I'll go and see about him."

Her son was pumping his tiny fists in the air, announcing through his indignant cries that his needs were not being met.

She unbuttoned her blouse and enabled the baby to root around at her breast, placated at last as he found the source of sustenance. Mrs. Butler's advice had been remarkably accurate; she was the only one of the three new mothers who did not employ the services of a wet-nurse, and not only was Wade the biggest and happiest of the infants, she was the only one of the mothers who had experienced no lingering discomfort from the experience. That was certainly something to be cheerful about, that and the fact that she had largely regained her slim figure - not that Charles had a chance to admire it. He had been summoned back to his command in the Shenandoah Valley only a week after Wade's birth, and Scarlett had gotten the sense from the letters that she received from him and Melly from Ashley that conditions were nothing if not trying. Charlie had recalled entire weeks without proper food and witnessing men reduced to eating nothing but boiled potatoes and wild game, scarce in the winter snow. Shuddering at the thought, Scarlett allowed Wade to finish his meal, then patted his back as she had been taught, then set him back in his cradle.

Scarlett looked at the baby as he let out a tiny yawn. Dark hair was beginning to cover his tiny skull and his eyes were going to be brown like Charlie's. He was a handsome baby! Much prettier than General Lee's granddaughter little Myra or Mrs. Davis's youngest, Jeffie. Wade was, in a sense, the first real major accomplishment of her young life. He had grown at an enormous rate and was the darling of his father and of Hampton's Legion, if not the entire Army of Northern Virginia. He even seemed to impress his self-named Uncle Rhett, who had pronounced him as very fine indeed on his last visit from his blockade-running adventures. It was rather amusing to watch Rhett look upon the baby with such wonder and joy in his eyes, rocking him and talking to him as if Wade could understand every word out of his mouth. Rhett even had gone as far as to offer to change his soiled nappy, something that had scandalized poor Melly.

Yes, Scarlett could have never imagined how much she herself would have changed since that last barbeque at Twelve Oaks. Taking another look at her son with satisfied pride, Scarlett reflected upon the events of the last year, how they had exceeded anything she ever could have anticipated. She had found contentment in her life with Charlie and their little boy and true friends in Rosemary and Melanie; it was as if all the concerns of the ordinary world had suddenly faded, and her days passed by in maternally fulfilling bliss coupled with the excitement of living in the busy Confederate capitol. Whatever would she have been doing at Tara? Her mother probably wouldn't have even allowed her to go to any parties with a baby in the cradle.

Oh, Mother and Pa and home…Only yesterday had the fourth month's anniversary of Wade's birth passed, Scarlett mused, and she dearly wished that she could show him off to Mammy and her parents. They had written letters of congratulation, expressing their desire to visit her at the earliest possible opportunity; however, Scarlett knew that it would be impossible for them to sojourn from Tara. She did hope that Wade wasn't too huge by the time the war was over…

The chilly northerly wind had finally died away, and the sky settled into an ambiguous shade of grey when Scarlett relocated to a chair in the nursery and stretched broadly in an effort to relieve the kinks in her back. Wade was finally asleep, his tiny little fist settled under his chin. Rhett was due to visit in the next few days. Perhaps he would bring another length of that lovely green taffeta for a new frock…it was essential after all, that she look her best for the next gala in honor of President Davis…

Her train of thought was broken by the sound of a loud crashing sound. She hastened to the nursery window and opened it. The scent of smoke filled her nose, followed instantly by another bang.

"Scarlett!" Rosemary called from below. "Come down right now! It's the Yankees!"

Panic seized Scarlett as she grabbed Wade and swaddled him as best she could in blankets. Gingerly she crept down the stairs and placed him in Melanie's waiting arms.

"I'm going to take a look around," Rosemary said. She took the pistol that Rhett had given her and slipped it into her haversack.

"I'm going with you!" Scarlett whispered.

"No!" Melanie cried. "You can't!"

"I smell smoke, Melly," Rosemary snapped. "I want to see if it's from our boys or their's."

Peering intently through the window, Scarlett searched the street and surrounding buildings for any sign of a fire.

"I don't see anything. Perhaps someone's burning leaves - or a campfire."

"Just because it looks alright doesn't mean it is," Rosemary said warily. Scarlett followed her outside the front door, noting that the acrid scent was growing stronger by the moment. She lifted her gaze to the rooftops of the capitol city's buildings and again beheld nothing amiss.

Rosemary rechecked the pistol that she had been recently keeping by the front door and handed it to Scarlett.

"I'm going to have a look around. Stand by the door, Scarlett. Understand?" Scarlett nodded and glanced up and down the empty sidewalk as she stepped over the threshold. No one was on the streets, as though they were in an abandoned ghost town.

"I don't see anything," Rosemary said as she returned a few moments later. "I just wish that I could be sure. Surely if we were supposed to evacuate, someone would have let us know."

"Let's try and get some sleep," Melanie said softly, holding little Wade close. "We'll sleep in Scarlett's room, by the window, just to be sure…"

They did just that; moving the baby's cradle next to the big bed, the three of them rested uneasily next to one another, falling into a dreamless sleep to the low murmur of each other's voices.

A loud rapping at the door woke Rosemary with a start, and she almost knocked Scarlett out of bed with her sudden movement.

"Someone's here," she said softly, feeling around for the pistol. "I'm going downstairs, Scarlett. You light some sconces here in the hallway in case we need to run back up here and get the baby, okay?"

Again Scarlett nodded in unspoken understanding, making a cautious descent to the bottom floor a few moments after Rosemary did.

"Scarlett!" Rosemary called quietly. "Come here!"

The front door was ajar, and Scarlett saw instantly that Rosemary was on her knees, tending to a manly form crumpled across their threshold.

"It's Luke, Scarlett, he's badly hurt. Oh darling!"

Scarlett noted the bloody gash across Luke Bonham's brow and put a hand to her mouth.

"Dispatches," Luke was mumbling incoherently. "General Lee. Dispatches. For Davis."

"He was carrying these," Rosemary handed Scarlett a folded roll of papers. "For the President. I'll take them, darling. I'll take them myself. Help me, Scarlett, hurry, help me get him in."

Struggling to lift the young man between them, the two women heaved him onto the settee. Melanie was waiting on the landing, and cried in dismay as she saw the state Luke was in.

"Tend to him, Melly," Rosemary instructed. "He's had a nasty hit, but I think he'll be alright. I'm going to take these to the Davis's place. That's what he's in town to do."

"Yankees," Luke was muttering. "Around the city."

"What!" Melanie cried. "You can't be serious, Rosemary! There could be Yankees all around us and if those are dispatches - my dear - they could arrest you."

"They won't get into Richmond," Rosemary scoffed. "I promise you that. Our boys will burn it to the ground first."

Melly nodded and hastened to find a cold, wet compress for Luke's head. Scarlett took the pistol from the door and moved to follow Rosemary.

"We should both go," she said. "It's close to a mile to the Davis's." Damn the first family for staying outside of town while the Confederate White House was being completed!

"Hurry then," Rosemary said, moving towards the doorway. With a shaky hand, Scarlett lit the wick of a hurricane lantern and trudged on after her, hoping that Rhett had indeed taught Rosemary how to shoot straight should they run into trouble.

Together the two prowled through the empty streets, noting that there was not one light in the entire city on, yet both were keenly aware of the ever increasing smell of smoke.

"This way," Rosemary indicated, but Scarlett raised her gaze and squinted against the light from the lantern as she peered into the shadows of one of the dark alleyways, finally discovering the source of the smoke. The fence along the side of the street had clearly been burning for some time.

"Yankees," Rosemary declared through clenched teeth. "Sending a message that they can just march in here and hey - "

Rosemary cried out in alarm as a man's hand clamped tightly around her mouth. In his other hand, the man held a pistol directed toward Scarlett.

Another grabbed Scarlett's arms from behind her, pinning them to her sides.

"Search 'em," the first man said to another lackey. All three were dressed in dark, civilian clothes.

"Rebel dispatches, Major," the man said after he had spent a minute or two examining Rosemary's haversack. "This one was carrying 'em."

"Take them both for questioning, Corporal. The Rebs won't know what's hitting them if these two don't have a chance to talk."

"No!" Scarlett cried. "You can't!"

"I can, Ma'am. Make it easy on yourself and hush. I've not yet shot a lady but I will if you don't be quiet."

"Let my sister go." Melly's soft voice was calm and devoid of fear as she cocked her pistol, holding it against the head of the man who held Scarlett.

"Damnation!" the first man said, "how many of you are there?"

Melly was unwavering. "Let them go. You have what you want. Now, I want my sister and friend to go free, now do as I say or I shall shoot your friend."

The first man cackled with laughter, then moved his hand slightly, signaling for even more of them to emerge from the alleyway. A firm hand immediately knocked the pistol away from Melly, who let out a sharp cry of outrage as she was thrown to the ground. Scarlett watched in horror as Rosemary pivoted around and pummeled the man who held her with her fist and kicked him sharply in the groin. He turned on her with a snarl, lifting the hand that held the pistol and tapping the butt of the weapon against her chin, sending her reeling to the ground, where she moved no more.

Scarlett wanted to scream, but she didn't possess the strength - instead she watched as Melly was blindfolded and Rosemary was thrown over the first man's shoulder.

"Blindfold this one too," the man in charge said, indicating Scarlett. "If we hurry, we can make it to Washington before daybreak."

Without further warning, he thrust Scarlett forward and she hit the ground next to Melly. Her view obscured as the blindfold came down over her eyes, a feeling of ice-cold dread shot through her. They were going to die at the hands of these dirty Yankees, and her little baby would wake in a few hours, alone and with no one to see to him except a wounded soldier lying on the settee…


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Rhett Butler had ridden hard from the coast, making a two-day journey in little under a day. His legs aching, he halted his tired mount in front of the townhouse and hastened to the doorway to see with his own eyes that Scarlett, Melanie, his sister and the baby were indeed unharmed. He had known that the raid was coming, but he had had no idea that the women would have been in any danger. Still, a feeling of dread manifested itself from the pit of his stomach, and it intensified as he beheld the fence along the side street, which had clearly been set ablaze some time before.

Upon entering the house, he dashed toward the settee, where a manly form was crumpled up, unconscious.

"Bonham!" he cried, turning him over to examine the bloody gash on his head.

He glanced around him. "Well, Luke, you're alive," he muttered aloud, "but whoever did this meant for you to be out awhile."

"Scarlett?" he called out. "Miss Melly? Rosemary? Scarlett?" His tone became urgent as he bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time. Shards of ice-cold dread were shooting through him as he cautiously opened the nursery door. Nothing. Even the cradle was missing.

Perhaps they had left in the night? But why take the cradle, too?

He snatched the pistol from his belt and readied himself to enter the master bedroom. If the bastard Yankees had inflicted harm upon his sister…or Scarlett…

Again, there was nothing. The bed was empty and unmade, the cradle set next to the bed, unmoving.

His despair reached unparalleled heights as he turned to leave, but then, out of nowhere, he heard the loud wail of the outraged babe.

"My God! Wade!" Rhett dashed toward the cradle and picked up the squirming child. He was clearly hungry - who knew how long he'd been left unattended.

"What the hell am I going to do with you?" Rhett addressed the small one, who wriggled happily in the familiar set of strong arms. "I just wish you could talk, Wade Hampton. You could tell me what happened to your mother."

The baby squirmed again and let out a mighty cry, which startled Rhett.

"Alright, alright. You're hungry, I understand. My aunt has fled for Charleston, along with her darkies. Where am I going to find a bloody wetnurse here in town? What _am_ I going to do with you?"

Wade's little eyes blinked as he stared up at Rhett, his fists clenching in outrage as his tiny stomach growled.

"Well, I suppose there are camp whores. Bound to be one or two with a babe on them. We can ask your father what he wants to do with you, I suppose. Ha. Comical. Well, you can come with me look for your mother. Come on, Wade. Let's find some help for Luke and you some food. Then we'll find your mother. Just us men."

**. . . .**

The wide and muddy river lapped against the side of the riverboat as she heaved lazily into Washington Harbor. There was a chill in the air which could take a person's breath if they lingered in it overlong, and for the last several minutes of their journey, Scarlett, Melanie, and Rosemary had been forced to endure it along with the rest of the prisoners. A mixture of black and white, there were about thirty total, although they were the only women. Together they huddled closely as the water did its dance, as if each lurch was a pointed reminder of how much danger they were in. They had gathered in the front of the line in anticipation of landing, Rosemary, for her part, had whispered plots for escape, which Melanie had shushed resoundingly.

Scarlett was unable to formulate any coherent thought over the churning crush of people. It had been about six hours, by her count. Six hours since Wade had been left alone. He woke every two or three, hungry. He couldn't die, surely, Scarlett attempted to reassure herself. After all, he had just been fed eight hours before. He wouldn't starve to death before someone heard his cries. Luke would send for Mrs. Butler, and surely she would take care of Wade. Yes, Scarlett thought, she would do that. Satisfied briefly by the realization that Wade's situation wasn't completely hopeless, she began to turn to her own rather desperate one.

The men who had captured them had mentioned Washington. And hanging.

Surely even the Yankees didn't hang women. And for what - helping a wounded soldier? Scarlett looked down at her fingernails, bitten to the quick. At first, she had been frightened more by the prospect of what Charlie would say when he learned they had allowed themselves to be taken prisoner, but now it was becoming clear that their predicament was dire. Confederate boys got hung all the time; it was all over the papers. Surely the Yankees wouldn't be remiss about hanging a woman. I don't want to die, Scarlett thought in a panic. I'm seventeen! I'm too young to die.

She looked at Melly's face, ashy grey in color. Her hands alone betrayed any sense of fear, they shook as she clasped them tightly together. Her shoulders were drawn, emphasizing the smallness of her frame.

Suppose they throw us in prison, Scarlett thought. Why, they'd starve us and torture us and rape us - she grimaced at the idea of getting with child by a filthy Yankee. She'd rather die than face that sort of shame.

Rosemary was completely stoic. Her lean face was smudged with the soot from the street where she had been thrown so brutally, and there were large bruises forming on her arms where she had been handcuffed. In truth, she looked more a swarthy piratess than damsel in distress.

"Bring forward the women," a man's voice pierced Scarlett's thoughts. "Clear a path."

Avoiding the curious stares from around them, they stood up and made their way through the crowd as best they could. They walked to the front of the hold until they came face to face with a group of twelve Yankees, the foremost of whom had addressed them.

"Rosemary Elizabeth Butler, Melanie Clarice Wilkes, Katherine Scarlett Hamilton, you are all of you Rebel spies and you shall be held as prisoners of war until you are sentenced."

"Sentenced? What happened to our right to a fair trial?" Rosemary snapped.

The Yankee captain laughed. "Madam, this is a war we're in. Move them out, Sergeant."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **_Thanks so much to everyone who has read and reviewed so far… Please keep the comments coming, as they help me become a better writer and tell a better story! (Also, I wanted to take this opportunity for a shameless plug to my other GWTW story in progress, "Falling In". If you have a moment, check it out! _

Chapter 12

"Is that a little pig I hear in there?"

"No suh, Mastah Rhett. He's jes' hungry, thas all, suh."

"He's alright though?"

"Yes suh. Squallin' up a storm 'til Ah's fed him good."

"Good," Rhett sighed drolly as he attempted to return to his newspaper. Wouldn't Rosemary and Scarlett love it when they saw that they'd made national headlines?

The wetnurse he had found, Rebecca, a servant of Mrs. Davis, dismissed herself to tend to her own babe, who was waiting in the other compartment. Rhett took Wade up in his arms and stroked his fuzz of hair.

After placing an indulgent kiss upon the tiny head, Rhett attempted a lullaby to coax the child to sleep. He was a remarkably good baby, not easily given to crying, and only then when he was hungry or wet. His facial expressions changed periodically, which was vastly entertaining to Rhett, who recovered him with a soft blanket.

"Alright little man, go to sleep now."

Wade blinked twice as he stared up at the now familiar face.

"I mean it. I have a lot of work to do and I can't do it with you staring at me." His matter-of-fact address of the child drew a chuckle from Rebecca, who had peeked out from her own compartment to ascertain that her services were no longer required. "That chile don' understand you, suh."

"Of course he understands," Rhett said, continuing in his discussion with Wade as the lady took her leave from them.

"Now I mean it, Wade Hampton Hamilton. To sleep with you, little man. We'll be at camp in a little over an hour and you'll need to be fresh for your Uncle Ashley. I will too, come to think of it..."

Rhett shut his eyes, the picture of Scarlett's golden-haired cavalier fresh in his mind. Did she still love him as much as she had professed that day at Twelve Oaks? Or more importantly, did the honorable Ashley hold a torch for Scarlett? He'd have to hope that he did; procuring help for them might be difficult, else…not that Rhett had any cause to doubt Ashley's affection for his own sweet wife. It was merely that Scarlett, in Rhett's mind, was a better bargaining chip. Looking down at Wade Hampton's chubby-cheeked countenance, Rhett felt himself overcome by a sense of warmth. He had a responsibility to see to the baby's safety, and as much as he wanted to take off in the direction of Washington, Wade's wellbeing had to be his first priority. After all, the Yankees were notoriously easy on women, even those accused of espionage, as Rosemary had been, according to the papers. But Rhett could get that wiped away…what were friends in Congress for, after all? But procuring three persons' freedom was infinitely more difficult than just one, and Rhett had a sneaking suspicion that none of the three would leave without the others…even Scarlett…

Smirking, he retrieved his hat and jacket and wrapped Wade in his own overcoat as the train pulled to a stop.

"Cap'n Butler," the porter said nervously, "We's here, suh. I tole you I ain't supposed to take no passengahs."

Rhett shoved a handful of bills into the stuttering man's hand. "I appreciate your trouble. I hope that this eases your burden considerably. Now, if you would do me another favor and watch out for the girl I hired to suckle this babe…she'll need respite and food, if you'd see to that while I'm conducting my business at camp…" he pulled out another wad of bills from his coat pocket, a greater amount of money the man had not beheld in all of his days, "…I'd be happy to compensate you after we are safely in Maryland."

"Then, suh?" the wide-eyed porter said, "What'd you be doin' then, suh?"

Rhett raised an elegant dark eyebrow. "Going visiting."

**. . . .**

Ashley Wilkes knew his name was Rhett Butler, that he was a friend of both Melly and Scarlett, and he was aware of something else as well, that the tall raven-haired man was staring at him again. But he was Ashley Wilkes of Twelve Oaks, Major, C.S.A., adjutant to General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson who had gained high esteem from his commanding officers for his deeds upon the battlefield, to be honored here tonight, and he would give the insidious blockade runner's attention the lack of regard it deserved. And still, he was bothered by it…Tall and powerfully built, it wasn't Butler's height nor display of musculature which caused him to stand out amongst the other guests. No, there was a display of confidence, clearly worn, which distinguished Rhett Butler from the tired, shabbily dressed Confederates.

He turned away quickly, returning to the whispered conversation at hand between General Lee and his direct subordinates, a conversation that affected Major Wilkes himself directly, for it regarded his own wife and sister-in-law, and their apparent capture by Federal raiders. Butler was listening too, Ashley could see that, for all that the other man stood at the opposite end of the room, the throng of other guests in between them. It troubled Ashley's own keen sense of honor that he was barely able to pay attention to General Lee's words of reassurance due to his increased awareness of Butler's long shadow in the room. How rude the man was - eavesdropping so flagrantly! But one should not expect any better from a blockade-runner, a man not received by any decent Southern family.

Again he tried to be pleasant as Colonel Pickett commented in his loud voice upon the grandeur of the Virginia mansion in which they were dining, sentiments Ashley echoed with his own soft-spoken praise. A massive fireplace boasted high, cheerful flames, but Ashley felt no warmth from the hearth. Melly and Scarlett and Rosemary Butler were in grave danger, and all he, Ashley, could do was comment about the fine accommodations he was enjoying. If only he possessed enough fortitude to approach General Lee about plans for a prisoner exchange. Charlie would, for certain, were he present. But his cousin was far away, all the way in Shiloh, Tennessee, according to his last letter, serving under General Albert S. Johnston, and blissfully unaware of his wife and sister's predicament. So Ashley had bided his time, waiting for the opportune moment to discuss the situation further with General Lee, who privately suffered from the effects of old age and days spent riding in the saddle. He was so like Ashley's own father, he opined, musing to himself, he's meant for better things than this…

But Ashley had been invited by Lee himself, and he would at least attempt to be sociable. After all, he had been promoted, and it was nothing if not his duty to appear as stoic as possible throughout the hard winter. Ashley could not allow his worry to overcome him - but why, why was Rhett Butler staring him down so intently?

Ashley excused himself from his companions before he weaved his way through the crowded room, pausing briefly to admire the painting which hung over the mantle. The subject was a crimson clad woman who vaguely reminded him of Scarlett in demeanor and about the eyes. The artist had chosen a background of deepest blue, as if she stood out as a specter in midst of a mighty cloud. One knew not if she was entering or being carried up and away from sight, but Ashley suspected that it mattered not - the woman was always watching, waiting. But enough of that, Ashley chastised himself internally as he tore his gaze away from the painting. But it was comforting to him; after all, he had been a guest in few houses so fine on his tour of Virginia. The war had made works of fine art such as the one before him superfluous, a necessary object to sell off at auction in order to eat. He'd be damned if he didn't enjoy this one, this night. After all, when was the next time he'd be invited to enjoy such a fine party?

"A fine painting, is it not, Mr. Wilkes?" Rhett Butler had appeared behind Ashley and spoke conversationally.

"Fine indeed," Ashley nodded. "Mr. Butler, how are you, sir?"

Rhett smiled, showing off a set of even white teeth, as if he wanted to savor this occasion. "You're holding up remarkably well for a man whose wife and dear sister-in-law have been abducted by the enemy and are being held as prisoners of war."

"They will not harm them," Ashley stated, a little more firmly than he had intended to be. He didn't want to offend Butler. No, that was the last thing he needed to do at the moment.

"I truly hope that is the case," Rhett replied, his smile fading somewhat. "After all, my own sister is in their ranks. Rosemary has always loved making a splash in any and all of her endeavors."

"Not unlike you, I presume," Ashley said rather smugly. "I take it from your fine clothing that the war has not depleted the Butler coffers overmuch?"

"As much as I'd love to be my family's representative voice, Mr. Wilkes, I cannot claim that I maintain such an office."

"I take it then, that you have yet to make peace with them?"

"You take it correctly, Mr. Wilkes. Or should I say _Major_, I must say, I read your write-up to pass the time from Richmond to here…two field commendations? Your own family must be very pleased indeed. Perhaps you'll become a career soldier, when this conflict is said and done?"

Ashley sensed an insult in Butler's statement, and flashed him a proud glare. "Certainly not. I hope never to pick up a weapon again after this war is over. I look forward to that day, in fact, I pray for its speedy coming daily."

"Again," Rhett said, looking amused, "you are being remarkably cavalier about this entire incident…I admire your fortitude, Major Wilkes. Your stoicism is something to which I myself may aspire."

Ashley let out a hollow laugh, "I fear that you will be disappointed then, Mr. Butler, for I find myself holding onto sanity by the barest of threads. And when I think of what might have befallen Melly and Scarlett and your sister I just…"

"Don't worry yourself, Ashley, we'll manage to get them out of this scrape. It may take time of course, and I'd like your help, if you're willing to pass the baton of fetching General Lee's skivvies to the next available underling…"

Ashley's face went red. "I can assure you that I do not -"

"It was a joke, Wilkes. Not a very funny one, and at your expense. I apologize for straying from the task at hand. Mrs. Wilkes, Scarlett and my sister."

"Mrs. Hamilton," Ashley corrected automatically.

"Say what?"

"Mrs. Hamilton. You are not Scarlett's family member nor her husband, so you must address her as _Mrs. Charles Hamilton_."

Again the sardonic smirk. "Indeed." He smiled slightly before saying again, "So, Ashley, might I depend upon your assistance when I travel to Washington? I'll need an aide-de-camp of sorts, you see, to help me uncover bits and pieces of unsavory information pertaining to our brave boys in blue…"

"You don't mean-"

"Spare me your Confederate pride, Ashley, you know well as I do the goings on of Federal juries. It'll take them weeks or months to decide what charges to bring and they don't have that. Three women unprotected in a jail is like throwing tender steaks in front of a starving man."

Ashley shuddered. "I don't particularly care for your analogy."

Rhett smiled wolfishly. "I take it you see my point, analogy or not?"

Ashley nodded. "We must help them. But my post -"

"Leave it."

"I cannot desert - Melly would never forgive -"

"Mrs. Wilkes may not be around to forgive you if you do not act, sir. And what about Wade Hampton? You realize, I hope, that your nephew is in my charge currently. Does his growing up without a mother mean anything to you? Particularly if his mother happens to be the woman for whom you've always held a torch?"

"I beg your -"

"Save your breath, Ashley. Just tell me you'll help me. For Scarlett and Mrs. Wilkes's sake."

Ashley took in a deep breath. "For their sakes, Butler. Not yours. Never yours."

Rhett nodded in agreement before letting out a small chuckle. "Never." He then leaned closer to Ashley's ear and whispered, "Meet me in the side garden at midnight. I'll have civilian clothes for you and we'll leave for Washington at dawn."

Ashley nodded in silent understanding, then watched as Rhett Butler slinked into the crowd, finally disappearing, like a fox into the night. Ashley cast one more desirous look at the painting, saying a silent prayer for his own protection, and fervently wishing that he was back home at Twelve Oaks.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Scarlett stared wistfully out the window as the raindrops wavered on the panes. Rosemary was at the other end of their cell, sitting on the narrow cot with her face in her hands. She was beginning to wonder if Melly was going to be returned at all; the guards had taken her around dawn for questioning. The thought of poor, gentle Melly in Yankee hands was almost too much for Scarlett to bear. Suppose they hurt her? Or killed her? What would she tell Ashley and Charles? That was, if she made it out herself…

In the outside corridor, she could hear the sound of brisk footsteps, which stopped abruptly outside her cell door. Quickly, Scarlett and Rosemary stood up and faced the entrant, the same Captain who had escorted Melly out earlier.

"Ladies. My name is Captain William Flynn. I'm a physician." Flynn acknowledged them by respectfully removing his cap and holding it in his hands. "Mrs. Wilkes was kind enough to offer her nursing skills to a comrade of mine. Suffered an awful gunshot wound to the neck…anyway, she had said that the two of you have medical experience as well. That being the case, I have come to ask for your assistance."

"To Hell with that!" Rosemary scowled, her brows drawn together tightly. "Melly may be kind enough to treat your scum but not me."

"I understand your sentiment, Miss Butler. But I also am short-staffed. I have no nurses and men are dying by the hundreds. Men from Maryland, many of whom support your cause as strongly as you do."

"You seem to forget, _Captain_," Rosemary said with exaggerated sweetness, "that we are being held as prisoners. Only last night we were threatened with the hangman's noose. Why should we suffer to slave away on behalf of your men if our only end is a hanging? Men, by the way, who got themselves shot trying to kill _ours_?"

"You are a spirited woman, Miss Butler. And I would be lying if I did not express my admiration for you and your friends. But let me also remind you that you are a prisoner; you are my prisoner, to be exact. Forgive me for making the supposition that you might prefer some useful employment besides sitting here idly. It is, after all, a matter of character evidence that could be your ticket to freedom…evidence I could provide, should you assist me."

Rosemary exchanged a glance with Scarlett, then replied aloud in curt, cool disdain, "I accept your terms, Captain."

"I'm so very glad, Miss Butler. Mrs. Hamilton, if you both will follow me. Mrs. Wilkes has been standing for six hours straight, but she assures me that she has plenty of steam left in her."

They followed him down a long hallway, then up a stone staircase which led to the main floor of the prison, which Captain Flynn explained was an old outpost which had been rendered obsolete before the war.

"She's not defensible, and not in a strategic location. These days, all she's fit for are low security prisoners and dying men. Do be mindful of the stench. They tend to rot in the heat. I'd offer you a handkerchief but I've long since used them all for bandages. Mrs. Hamilton, do watch your step."

"Now then, I must take your temperature now…" they heard Melly's soft voice echo in the hallway. "There, there…"

"Mrs. Wilkes?"

Quickly Melly rose from the floor where she had been tending the groaning soldier and faced Captain Flynn as he entered.

"I've brought you some relief, ma'am," he said, indicating that Rosemary and Scarlett should follow him. He had not lied. The stench was overwhelming. The men had been laid two deep on the stone floor, and filled the room from wall to wall, their injuries ranging in degrees of criticality. A few were clearly dead, the one who Melly had been speaking to was clearly very close.

The captain crossed the room to the washstand and pulled on a long, white coat that was bloodstained out of a basket, then moved down the row of men to see to the worst of the wounded.

"There's been a terrible battle, Scarlett, this man was just telling me," Melly said in a hushed tone. "The Yankees have occupied Yorktown, but our boys stopped them at Williamsburg. General McClellen has to wait before they can press on to Richmond…it's a miracle, can't you see?"

"The miracle would have been for him to leave Virginia entirely," Rosemary said bitterly.

"But don't you see, Rose, it means that little Wade is safe. Oh my poor Scarlett, I know how worried about him you are."

Scarlett gazed at Melly uncertainly, which caused the other to squeeze her hand firmly. "I hear you crying every night, dear. I know how worried you are. We must have faith that he has been found, that he's well and safe."

Scarlett could only nod her head. In truth, she wasn't sure that she had been crying for Wade only. There was Mother and Pa to worry about, and Ashley, and Charlie of course…and Rhett. She couldn't help but notice how much she missed his constant presence, no matter how bothersome he could be…

"Ladies?" Captain Flynn was infinitely more pleasant for the women to look upon when his white coat covered his dark blue uniform. He was a nice looking man, with curly dark hair and intense blue eyes. He stepped very carefully over the bandage bedecked men and paused to give Rosemary and Scarlett each brief instructions as to what he expected from each. "Now, Miss Rosemary, since I gather that these men represent all that is repugnant to you, might I offer you the task of cleaning? There's a thick layer of dust between cots and on the windows and there's old dressings everywhere that need washing. Would you be so kind?"

Rosemary looked indignant. "You'll _offer_ the task to me? My, my, that's kind of you."

"I'm glad you are agreeable," Flynn then moved to Scarlett, who was fixing him with narrowed green eyes. "Miss Scarlett? Would you be so kind as to follow me?"

Scarlett froze, and cast a worried glance in Melly's direction. At her sister-in-law's firm headshake, Scarlett acquiesced, and followed the captain back into the hallway.

"Miss Melly informs me that you have a nursing infant, which, as a new father myself, inclines me to afford you a great deal of sympathy. However, Mrs. Hamilton, although I have the authority to release you, I could never guarantee your safety. In fact, you are much safer here then traveling alone. However, I will transfer to Washington in a week's time, and I would be glad to escort you to the Confederate line under a white flag. The journey to Richmond from there would be much safer."

"What about Melly and Rosemary?" Scarlett burst out, forgetting how much speaking to a Yankee chafed her. "I can't leave them behind. I just can't."

"I understand, of course. But do think of your child, Mrs. Hamilton. I can vouch for my replacement. He is a good, honorable man who will let no harm come to Mrs. Wilkes and Miss Butler. I am very sorry that I cannot release all of you at once - understand that I do not see you as the enemy, Mrs. Hamilton. I expect that your countrymen would accord the same respect to my wife, were she to fall into Confederate hands."

Scarlett bristled as if she'd been rubbed the wrong way with a burr. "Our boys would never stoop to taking helpless women prisoner."

"Helpless?" Flynn laughed, exposing his mouthful of white teeth. "The three of you strike me as anything but, Miss Butler in particular."

"She's engaged," Scarlett snapped, an old habit left over from her days as the belle of the County employed whenever male attention was diverted from herself…even if the male in question was a Yankee.

"And I'm married," Flynn countered, lifting up his left hand and pointing to the golden wedding band on his ring finger.

"Right," Scarlett sniffed.

"You don't have to fight me, Mrs. Hamilton. I'm from Baltimore. We're not so far north that we've no manners."

"I've been there," Scarlett said, again unconsciously. "Before the war, of course."

"Perhaps we had the honor of meeting there. I'm certain that you were quite the belle."

Scarlett laughed. "Fiddle-dee-dee. That was ages ago."

"I doubt that." Flynn smiled, "I'll bet that you aren't a day over seventeen."

"Well…close…" Scarlett acquiesced. "So, what is it you want me to do, Captain Flynn?"

Flynn laughed aloud at her blunt question - how peculiar these Southern women were, dripping with charm one moment and unabashedly blunt the next. Extraordinary creatures, these belles!

"I'd like you to assist Mrs. Wilkes, if you would be so kind. Read to the men, talk to them, perhaps pen a letter home for them if there's time…for many, it'll be their last chance at correspondence."

Scarlett heaved a sigh. "Is that all?"

"Yes," Flynn replied. "And do think on my offer. I'm not sure that even the D.C.-Richmond highway will be safe in a month or less."

"I'll think on it," Scarlett said, her head held high. "I'll go and see what Melly needs."

"Very well, Mrs. Hamilton. I thank you, for your cooperation. Now, I must attend to some paperwork. The men will think any kindness a blessing."

With that, he rounded his heels and turned around, leaving her to stand at the doorway, the cries of the wounded ringing in her ears. To her surprise, Rosemary had even gotten down on her knees to speak to a boy, one who looked no older than fifteen. Scarlett walked slowly between the bodies, and bent down next to Melly and Rosemary with hesitation.

"You shouldn't have accepted his offer, Melly," Rosemary was mumbling discontentedly as she fiddled with a bandage. "I can't imagine what possessed you to do it."

"Oh Rose, think of what he can do for us. All we're doing is easing the pain of dying men, Yankee or not. And if we're kind and charming, Captain Flynn will see us safely acquitted of our charges, whatever they are, I'm sure of it. He's a good man, please, trust me."

"He's a Yankee!" Rosemary hissed. "What did he say to you, Scarlett?"

"He offered to take me with him to Washington in a week, then see me to Richmond. He was worried about Wade," Scarlett explained, surprise still flushing her face.

"How kind of him." Melly exclaimed, "You see, Rosemary, I told you. Scarlett, you must take him up on it, for Wade's sake."

"Don't be a goose, Melly," Scarlett stated flatly. "I could never leave you both here. Besides, what if Mrs. Butler's taken Wade back to Charleston with her, then where would I be but by myself in Richmond?"

"Oh dear, I suppose I didn't think of that," Melly said with worry.

"I think you forgot to _think_, period," Rosemary grunted in derision. "Getting us indebted to that damn Yankee, making us coddle other Yankees while they're-"

She stopped speaking suddenly as the boy whose hand she was holding began to choke. Blood covered his mouth as he struggled to breath, splattering it all over Rosemary's ruined dress. "Stop it, damn it, stop!" Rosemary attempted to wipe the blood from his mouth with her hand.

Melly bit her lip and drew back the bandage which covered the boy's neck. She let out a little cry as she beheld the gaping hole, but held her tears back as she wiped his face. "Don't be frightened, sweetheart. You're going to go to Heaven, sweet boy. Sweet boy, it's alright. You're going to be alright."

Scarlett could feel vomit rising in her throat. This boy could have just as easily been Ashley or Charles, dying miles away from home with only strange women to comfort them. Melly's whisperings overcame the horrible choking noises, then suddenly, the boy was still. He was gone. Rosemary and Scarlett attempted to exchange a brief word with her, but Melly simply shook her head, then raised the sheet over the boy's head, and hastily took herself elsewhere.

The next day's labor saw the entire makeshift hospital scrubbed clean by Rosemary, the dead hauled out by Dr. Flynn's staff, and more wounded brought in by the scores in makeshift ambulances. It was near dusk when Scarlett wearily surveyed the floor she had just scrubbed. Her knees were raw, and her hands were burning from the strong lye soap. It was the first time in her young life that she could fully appreciate the labor it took to keep Tara's wooden floors spotless…she doubted that even her mother could say the same. Much to her discomfiture, she found her daydream intruded upon when none other than Captain Flynn appeared behind her. With a baleful eye, Scarlett peered up at him and looked around for Melly and Rosemary, who were occupied at other ends of the room.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?"

"Excuse me, Miss Scarlett. I apologize for startling you." Flynn reached beneath his white coat and produced a tan envelope with a stamp on the front. He handed it to her, and she could make out the name Melanie Wilkes.

"We receive these each week. The armies exchange them by special messenger."

"Why are you handing that to me?"

"Because I have read it already. It is this week's Confederate casualty list, and one name in particular was noted by a staff member, and he brought it to my attention."

"A causality list? But who-" Scarlett could hear her voice trembling. Surely not, surely it couldn't be… At a loss, Scarlett lowered her eyes and began to read.

**CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA**

**ATTN. QUARTERMASTER E.H. JANNEY, GEN. LEE'S ARMY OF VIRGINIA - CASUALITY REPORT**

**LISTING FOR WOUNDED, K.I.A., M.I.A., DESERTERS**

A cold, tight feeling began to form in the pit of Scarlett's stomach. It couldn't be Charlie. She couldn't be a widow! With fearful slowness, she raised her eyes until she met Flynn's concerned frown. She clenched her jaw tightly to keep it from trembling, then hastily flipped through the lists until she came to the H's. Her finger traced down the column until she passed Harringer. Charlie wasn't listed. He was safe. That meant…dear God! She flipped the page over and read through names until she found the W's, which were at the end. Then she saw it.

**WILKES, GEORGE A., MAJOR. MISSING IN ACTION, PRESUMED DEAD. MAY 4, 1862.**

The rest blurred before her eyes. May the fourth. Ashley. Her Ashley. Her golden knight. No, Melly's husband. Ashley, oh Ashley!

"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Hamilton. I simply wished to break the news to you first. I'll leave it to your discretion how best to tell her. Mrs. Hamilton? Mrs. Hamilton, are you alright? You're very, very pale." Captain Flynn was rubbing her hands in his own.

Ashley dead. It couldn't be. Ashley couldn't be dead. It must have been a mistake…surely not Ashley…

"Have hope, Mrs. Hamilton, I beg you. The report lists him as missing, not dead. Don't lose hope."

Wearily, Scarlett nodded, wondering vaguely why no tears had come. She braced back against the wall, withdrawing her hand from his as if it had been tainted. Her lips curled back. "It can't be true. It can't!"

"I'm so sorry," Flynn shook his head sorrowfully.

"He didn't want to go. He didn't really want to fight. He just…he had to…he had to join all the other County men. He was captain of the Troop…" Scarlett tipped her head back, knowing that tears were streaming down her face and not wanting to display her pain to Flynn. She could hold it back no more, and finally cried out in agony as the realization of Ashley's loss hit her full force.

"You will tell her, won't you?" the doctor murmured softly, taking a gentle hold of her and patting her on the back. "I think that she deserves to hear it from someone she loves, not a stranger. If you need me to be present, I certainly understand."

"Yes," Scarlett murmured, leaning her head into the comforting shoulder. "Yes, I will. I'll tell her."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _This is another 2-part chapter, unintentional this time. I've been remiss about finishing this story as well as "Falling In", but I'm on a roll now and hope to have the second half of this chapter up in the next few days. _

_As always, Lara - thank you so much for letting me pick your brain. You are the Civil War trivia extraordinaire, and I couldn't do it without you. Lara has informed me that in the last chapter I have transferred Charlie to General Richard Taylor's command (the same Richard Taylor who appears in her story, The Rhett Butler Affair - if you haven't read it, you SHOULD!), which is a mistake on my part, but apparently not a deadly one, as he could have been serving as a messenger or adjutant. Hampton's Legion is brigading with General Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson._

_The battle that is referred to in this chapter is the first of the Peninsular Campaign. __Confederate forces in the Shenandoah Valley, attacked Union forces, forcing them to retreat across the Potomac. As a result, Union troops rushed to protect Washington, D.C. _

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please review, if you would be so kind, and let me know what you think! _


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Ashley was waiting for Rhett at the head of the stairs, his hands clenched behind his back and his legs braced wide apart. It was obvious he had been watching the ship's cargo load from the upstairs window of the townhouse.

"Quite a few gun barrels on your ship," Ashley remarked carefully. "And powder too, underneath all those woolens and laces."

"Spoils of war," Rhett informed him, raising an eyebrow at the man's apparent curiosity. "Serving two masters has its privileges, Mr. Wilkes. I carry the Yankee guns for them, the South gets her niceties."

"While you further enable the Yankees to destroy us?"

"Why _us_, Ashley? Since you are no longer enlisted, you've no need to feel obligated to the dear old South."

Ashley looked ill. "I agreed to go with you to look for Scarlett and Melly and your sister. I left word of my intentions with my superior, who according to the paper was killed in action. I am no deserter, Butler!"

"Well, you're listed as _missing, presumed dead_…why not take advantage of it? After all, the war can't last too much longer."

"I am not," Ashley repeated. "…a deserter."

"And yet you're here with me rather than with your men. My appeal to chivalry overcame even your scruples. See what the teachings of the South have borne in you?"

Ashley faced him squarely. "I will return to my regiment once we ascertain their safety."

"You long for death that much?"

"Perhaps when you experience combat for yourself, Butler, you will understand."

Rhett shook his head in rejection of the other man's words. "I lived rough in California, Wilkes. In the goldfields. Chivalry counts for nothing then. Men falling all around you, dead from disease or fights or mines blowing up. Ethics be damned. Injured get a swig of rotgut, put 'em in the shade, patch them up in the end. The ones that make it prosper. The ones who don't, die."

"And you prospered?"

Rhett shrugged. "I'm still alive."

Ashley sniffed. "One thing is certain, Butler. Whichever side wins, there is a great deal more bloodshed to come."

"You're not squeamish, are you Ashley?" Rhett smirked.

"No, Butler. I simply see it as a waste of the highest order."

"Then, Mr. Wilkes, we agree on something."

The sudden wail of the baby upstairs pierced the silence between the two men, and Ashley rolled his eyes. "He just went to sleep. The girl fed and changed him and I've been holding him the last half an hour. What else does an infant require?"

Rhett cackled gleefully. "Attention. I guess it's me he's calling for."

"You're fond of him, aren't you?" Ashley remarked dryly.

"Ah, you guessed my guilty secret."

Ashley looked at Rhett narrowly. "I trust that you will contain your affections to the child and not his mother."

"Why should a married man such as yourself express such a concern?" Rhett leisurely raised an eyebrow. "I need not ask if you mind. Your feelings on the matter are quite apparent."

"She's married to my cousin. My family honor-"

"Your family honor be damned, Ashley. I bet it's nice for you to keep her in the family-"

"How you dare?"

"I dare, Ashley Wilkes, because it's a true statement."

"Because you care for her?"

Rhett's jaw hardened.

"Well if you won't answer me that, then I'll pose another question. You clearly have pull within the Yankee command. Why not rescue them yourself? Why drag me into your web?"

Rhett tossed his head. "If you must know, I needed you dead. Well, not really dead. Just dead on paper. I know your wife, and even Scarlett to some extent. They won't rock the boat without a good reason. But you are conveniently leaving out one crucial point in my defense, paltry though it may seem to your more refined sensibilities. Your unit was front and center the day you left. The tent you would have been sleeping in is now six foot deep in a crater from cannon fire. The man with whom you left the note is dead, and not merely on paper. I should think you'd be a little more grateful to the agent of your reprieve."

Ashley drew in a deep breath "And when I am resurrected, what then?"

"I could give a damn what you do. If I were you, I'd take Mrs. Wilkes to Nassau and start a new life. Return when this damned war is over. But you seem to enjoy self-sacrifice, Mr. Wilkes. So do what you will. I need to see to the boy before he wakes the neighborhood. Excuse me."

**. . . . **

The days sped past, and with each new day, Scarlett found herself more restless and anxious for the arrival of the appointed day when Captain Flynn would again offer her the chance to return to Richmond. Rosemary had written Rhett, but, getting no response, had fairly given up on him. "Indeed," she had said, "I can just imagine him in the isles of Tripoli, bronzed from the sun with not a care in the world while we're slaving away for the Yankees. Flynn being the worst of the lot. " It was not too difficult for Rosemary to avoid the busy captain, yet far too often for her comfiture, she was forced to serve as his assistant. But for all three of the women, each still ardent supporters of the Confederacy, their work in the hospital gave rise to broader internal conflicts. The moans of pain echoed by the men were the same ones echoed by the boys in grey: each one could have been Charles, or Luke, or Ashley…

"We should not complain so," Melly said calmly as she placed the finishing touches on a wounded man's bandaged arm. "Captain Flynn has been very kind. Kinder than most Yankees would be, I should imagine."

"Kind," Rosemary scoffed. "Damned bluebelly." But she said no more on the subject in Melly's hearing. The days had not been kind to her since they had received the terrible news of Ashley, and a certain animosity had formed between Melly and the other two; more than once, Rosemary and even Scarlett had felt the sting of her reproof.

"One of these days," Melly predicted, "you'll be very grateful to Captain Flynn for what he has done for us. And as for the men we are serving…I only hope that Ashley was granted the same care before he…" And then she had fled the room, her hand clasped desperately across her mouth in an effort to hold back her tears.

Time progressed, and one evening, the moment Scarlett had been dreading came to pass. While Rosemary was dozing peacefully in the supply room, Scarlett was summoned to the office. There had already been a train of ambulances before the hospital doors and the orderlies were unloading wounded by the score that night, and she was grateful for the reprieve at that particular moment - all the blood and gore was making her stomach sick.

It was already late in the evening when Scarlett knocked on the door and announced herself to the doctor.

"Come in, Mrs. Hamilton," she heard his voice, and opened the portal to find him lying down on the small cot in the back of the room.

"Apologies, ma'am," he stood up and brushed the dust off his trousers. "I must remain awake to meet with my replacement. He arrives tomorrow or the next day, but I know not what hour."

Scarlett shrugged. "If you would prefer me to return later…?"

"No, Mrs. Hamilton, I'm glad you're here. How…how is Mrs. Wilkes faring?"

Scarlett shook her head, not sure how to answer. Melly seemed alright physically; in truth, she did. But her cheeks were an unhealthy pallor and she barely ate enough to keep a bird alive, despite the plentiful portions they were afforded by their Yankee captors. "Truthfully, I cannot say. She claims that she's fine, that she's just tired. But Rose and I see…"

"She's broken-hearted?" the Captain answered for her. "Poor lady. I knew the news would go hard on her. I just wish that there was something I could do to afford her some comfort."

"Melly suffers in silence," Scarlett said, with no trace of condescension in her voice. "She always has, as long as I've known her."

"How long have you been acquainted?"

She thought on the question hard. "We saw each other intermittently as children. Every other summer or so. Ashley - her husband - Ashley's family lived in the County, just miles away from Tara. Tara's my-"

"Plantation?" Flynn answered for her. "I understand you, Mrs. Hamilton. So, will the two of you return to Georgia upon your release?"

"I have to get my boy," Scarlett said. "I'm not even sure where he is. But I have to find him before I go home."

"I see," Flynn ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. "Your situation sounds dire, Miss Scarlett. I wonder that you have not tried to escape?"

Escape? Wherever would they have gone. "I don't see your meaning, Captain Flynn."

"The three of you have remained remarkably poised during our time together, even Miss Rosemary. You've done everything I've asked of you and more. You've assisted the other physicians and myself most admirably and without complaint. Dare I say it, the three of you seem quite…content?"

"I am not!" Scarlett whirled in high agitation. "Content! Fiddle-dee-dee! I wish you Yankees would just get your war over with so that I can go home!"

"Far be it for me to speak on behalf of my superiors, but I do believe we're doing the best we can. Perhaps you should send a letter to your President Davis, urge him to speed things along."

"Oh he wouldn't listen even if I…but it's the Cause…you wouldn't understand."

"I'm afraid I've never understood the nature of your illustrious _Cause_, would you like to explain it to me, Mrs. Hamilton?"

"Why its…its…Oh it doesn't matter what it is. Just the sooner we've licked you the better so the rest of us can get back to doing things the way they were before!"

"I think that Jeff Davis has other sentiments, Mrs. Hamilton. He'll draw it out to the bitter end; see if I'm wrong. And you know what? He'll be able to do it too, because his commanders are brilliant and ours are inept, despite our strength in numbers."

"Oh, I'm sick to death of hearing about how brilliant they are! Getting us into this mess. Ashley, dead. Why if I had known that Rhett was right about it all, I'd…"

Captain Flynn's eyebrows raised, he stared at her as her voice trailed off.

"Rhett?…Surely not…Rhett Butler?"

Scarlett folded her arms underneath her chest. "Yes, Rhett Butler. But how do you…you know of Rhett?"

"Not personally, but I've heard of him. Not a very patriotic Southerner. Surely he's not related to our Miss Rosemary? Yes? Oh my…well, I suppose she has enough steam for the both of them. But he's a millionaire by now, I'd say. And our boys are glad to keep him in business. I'll be damned…Rhett Butler."

"I'm glad you're so amused."

"That's it. That's just it, Mrs. Hamilton. I've been trying to conjure up a safe passage for you ladies into Confederate territory and you've just informed me that the answer's been under my very nose. You can take a train to Baltimore tomorrow morning and board the Intrepid. It's Butler's own vessel, though I'm not certain he'll be sailing it."

"All of us, you mean?"

"You and Mrs. Wilkes. I'll get you passes that state that you're attending her husband's funeral. It's a very sound plan."

"What about Rosemary?"

"She'll accompany me to Washington. I'll see that the charges against her are dropped and I'll send her to the Confederate line as soon as I learn of a prisoner exchange."

"How often are those?"

"Several times a month. She'll be safe until then, believe me."

"I should speak to Melly-"

"You must agree, Mrs. Hamilton. I beg you to trust me. If you do not, your cases will be out of my hands completely."

She nodded lamely.

"So you'll go?"

Again she nodded.

Captain Flynn looked momentarily triumphant, then stood up. "I've rounds to make. Try to get some sleep, Mrs. Hamilton."

The doctor moved passed her, but no sooner had opened his office door when the medical sergeant appeared at its threshold, fist poised to knock.

"Apologies, Captain. There's a gentleman here to see you. He's a-waiting in the vestibule for you."

"Not now," Flynn began tersely.

"He says it's urgent, Doc. Claims it can't hold off till morning."

A frown appeared on Flynn's face, mystified that he was by such an impromptu summons. "Is he an officer?"

The sergeant shook his head. "I didn't recognize him. He just said it was urgent business, sir."

Flynn sighed and pulled out his pocket watch. "I have only minutes to spare. Tell this mysterious gentleman that I will be down directly. Mrs. Hamilton, good evening."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** Hope you've enjoyed Part 2 of this Chapter. Please review, if you would be so kind, and let me know what you think! _


	15. Chapter 15

**A.N.: **_Dear amazing, fabulous readers who have reviewed and followed this story - I promised not to abandon it and I didn't lie! __J__ I'm back and I've already made some progress on the next few chapters. Your encouragement and support make writing such a pleasure, and it's something that I've missed. I hope that you'll continue to support this story as it unfolds! Please feel free to leave a review! ~CC_

Chapter 15

The lantern she had been carrying was doused, so it was through the darkness Scarlett groped her way around up the staircase which led from the offices back to the operating ward, where she met a weary Melly holding a lit candle stump. Tear-streaked grime covered her thin cheeks and trembling lips.

"There was a major skirmish upriver, Scarlett. The wounded have all been brought back, and the doctors have been busy trying to tend them all. I've been hauling away the bandages and clothes for the last hour just to keep the ward clear. I was wondering what kept you and Captain Flynn."

"He has news for us, Melly. He knows Rhett - of all people - can you imagine? We might well be boarded on Rhett's own ship as soon as tomorrow if Flynn can arrange it. Melly? What is it? Melly, this is our chance to go home!"

A wan smile was Scarlett's answer.

"Scarlett, darling. There is little there for me to return to. Ashley is…"

"Hush Melly! We don't know that he's dead! Why, he could have been captured for all we know - you can't give up on him now just because it -"

"Hurts?" Melly's tone was gentle. "Like fire, consuming my very soul? Oh, Scarlett, darling. You wouldn't understand."

"I can't understand-" A frown from Melly warned her to say no more as her sister-in-law's gaze strayed toward the door. Scarlett turned abruptly and met a pair of familiar, agonized grey eyes.

**. . . .**

"Hey! Hey there, Yankee!" Rosemary stared down the hallway at a young private attempting to scour the blood soaked floor of the operating room with only water and a scrub rush. "You're not doing anything but making a bigger mess for me to clean up! Now scram!"

He retorted, "Ain't nobody able to clean up _your_ mess, Mrs. Johnny Reb."

Rosemary snorted at the insult. "Seems to me that the graveyards are full of Johnny Rebs and Billy Yanks alike."

A long, quiet pause intervened, then gently, Rosemary gathered her own waiting mop and rinse water.

"We can finish it together, Billy." she said softly.

"Name ain't Billy!" he bristled.

"I realize that. What is it, Private?"

"A.P. Curtin."

"What does the A.P. stand for?"

He looked dubious. "Andrew Perkins."

"Very well, Andrew. Fetch me that bucket. Please."

Some time later, she and Private Curtin surveyed the meticulously scrubbed floor with satisfaction. The task was complete and she was wringing the mop out a final time when voices sounded outside and the door swung inward.

Several officers, including Captain Flynn and a pair of civilians, crossed over the freshly mopped floor without a glace to young Curtin, who glared down at their muddy footprints with disgust.

"Here now! What's going on -" Rosemary's sharp bark was cut off by the appearance of a third man. Her bucket slipped from her stiff fingers and clanged to the floor noisily. "Rhett!"

**. . . .**

When they finally arrived at the townhouse, Rhett's manservant was waiting with hot breakfast in the kitchen, and the mulatto girl he had hired to care for Wade was waiting with the baby in her arms at the head of the stairs.

Wade Hampton seemed to squirm and whimper the moment his mother drew near, and Scarlett nearly broke out in a run to retrieve him. "Oh, my boy!" she murmured, taking him in her arms and cuddling him close. "Oh, poor brave little man."

Wade made a satisfied little gurgle at the attention, then held out his pudgy hand toward his Uncle Rhett, who was behind Scarlett, talking in a low voice to Rosemary.

"There's our boy," Rosemary gave a small smile. "Why Rhett, you've downright stolen him from us."

"Not at all." Rhett kissed the baby's dark head, laying his finger gently against the baby's small face as he perused him with fascination. "You've grown in a few days, little man. He's a good boy."

"He is a pretty baby, isn't he?" Scarlett said softly.

"He is," Rhett replied. "You could argue the point to anyone. The fact that he belongs to you is apparent."

Scarlett looked up at his dark face with surprise. "You think so? Everyone says he's the image of Charlie."

"He has your nose and mouth. And bellows like your father when he's hungry."

Scarlett raised her eyebrow. "How do you know?"

He shrugged, and gave her a tender smile. "I remember your father's bellowing at that barbeque at Mr. Wilkes's home with particular fondness. And I imagine you being much the same as a baby. And it is enjoyable to see it in him…as he grows…"

His voice trailed off as Rosemary cleared her throat.

Rhett sighed as he turned to face his sister. "Have the Wilkes's emerged from their discussion yet?"

Rosemary shook her head.

"What are you talking about?" Scarlett said, surprise evident on her face. "Did they not follow us inside?"

"No, they're still in the carriage. Didn't you feel the chill on the ride down?"

Scarlett shook her head. She had been so tired, she had spent the entire carriage ride with her eyes closed, her head resting on Rhett's shoulder. Melly had seemed slightly shaken at Ashley's reappearance, but had seemed to fall into his arms at the prison and had exited at his side.

"You look as if you need a rest, Rose," Rhett said, his tone serious. "And I imagine that Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes would like some privacy should they come inside. Get the girl to change the bedcovers and have a nap -"

"Don't coddle me, I'm not a damned child!" Rosemary waved him away.

"A hot bath couldn't hurt either," he retorted spiritedly. "And I know you're not a child. Anything but…"

"You can't possibly know anything about it!" she said, inciting more surprise in Scarlett.

"What is it, Rose?"

"Nothing, Scarlett. Rhett concerning himself overmuch in my affairs, as usual."

"I'm not concerned with your affairs, Rosemary. Just your safety, as always."

"Go to hell!"

"I did not encourage you to accompany us, if you recall. You could have remained with the panting Yankee pup if it was your pleasure."

"I never encouraged _him_, I can assure you."

Stalking toward the bedroom door, she threw Rhett a dirty look - but before she could enter the portal or Scarlett could utter a word, they heard the slam of the carriage door and heavy booted shoes enter the foyer of the townhouse.

Rosemary swung past first and hurried toward the sound of the commotion, while Rhett steered Scarlett and Wade toward the kitchen.

"What is going on?" Scarlett asked, disconcerted that everyone seemed to be in the know but she.

"Just wait," Rhett said tersely. "Have a seat."

They didn't wait long. Oblivious to the presence of the others in the kitchen as they came into view, Melly turned back to face her husband, indignation showing in her tight lips. With more energy than was warranted, even for one so petite, she slammed the kitchen door with such a force that rattled the very windowpanes.

Ashley seemed stunned into speechlessness at his wife's behavior.

"Melanie, this is not the place -"

"Why is it not, Ashley? When we've been mauled, bruised and threatened by Yankees, spent the last weeks scrubbing floors and binding wounds and changing bandages and writing letters to those poor boys' mothers letting them know that their sons are dead and then - and then - Ashley. I receive news that you were presumed killed and I - I died that day. And now you're here and alive and something worse than dead. A - a - deserter. Oh, Ashley. How could you face your family? When dear Charlie is in the field and Lieutenant Bonham and all the other boys who are fighting and dying!"

Ashley gasped, truly flabbergasted by her accusation. "Now see here, Melly, that's unfair - why, Butler is -"

"Don't say a word against Rhett Butler!" Melanie warned, wagging her finger at her husband. "Just because he wears no uniform makes him no less patriotic!"

Ashley was aghast. For the life of him, he had never seen her in such a temper. It was so unlike her very nature, and he did not like it one bit, particularly when it was directed at him.

"What have they done to you, my Melly? Whatever have they done to you?"

"Nothing, Ashley. This is me. My own _righteous _anger. When Charlie came for us at that wild party by the river, where were you?"

His lips tightened. "With General Lee, of course."

"Charlie said that you had been in town."

Now it was Scarlett's turn to sink down into her chair. She felt her face grow hot. Any desire she might have had to defend Ashley was second to her own sense of guilt, and she only sat in mute silence, avoiding meeting his eyes.

"Ashley. I think that we both know that I have just cause for anger," Melanie said softly.

He stared at her, grey eyes blazing. "What would you like me to do? Return to the front now? Face execution for desertion? Are you that anxious to be rid of me?"

Melanie looked as if he had struck her, then regained her composure. She straightened calmly, then strode arrogantly out of the kitchen.

Rhett said softly. "Don't go yet, Ashley. She needs some time to cool off."

Ashley sighed. "I admit that I was not anticipating that from her."

Rosemary shook her head and brushed past him, mumbling to herself, "You sure don't know Melly very well, then."

Ashley cleared his throat, glancing down at Scarlett and Rhett, who were both still seated. "I am going to leave. I must return to my men. But I am going to apologize to Melanie about something first."

"What is that?" Scarlett questioned uneasily, recalling those moments between them which she had not dwelt on for months but which now seemed much more serious.

"My own inadequacies. My own failures."

As he shut the door behind him, Scarlett groaned aloud.

"Why must Ashley -" Realizing that Rhett was listening closely increased her discomfiture. "And you. What are you looking at? Why must you always be the one to save us, why?"

"Well, if you ladies had been a little more anxious to get yourselves home, I would have had no need to come to your aid. And frankly, I thought you all would be happy to see Ashley and I. I've seen more enthusiasm from lambs going to slaughter."

Scarlett grunted obstinately. "Of course we wanted to come home. I was scared to death up there!"

"I doubt that anything could scare you, Scarlett. Besides, your captors struck me as decent men, Flynn in particular. Of course, a certain affinity for Rosemary might have had something to do with that. If I hadn't made an appearance myself, I think he would have spirited her off to Washington and we'd have never seen her again. I hope that he's not already ruined her. I'd hate to explain that to Mother and Father."

"Fiddle-dee-dee. He was married, he said. He has a new baby, Wade's age."

Rhett frowned intently into the wide green eyes that had turned on him. "You are naïve, aren't you, Scarlett?"

Not wanting to argue further with him, she hunched her shoulders, feeling that nothing was going to be simple for anyone in their household. Perhaps it would be wise if tonight she stayed close to Rhett, just in case Ashley said anything to Melly about their more indelicate moments and Melly was waiting to talk to her. And Rosemary and…Flynn? The idea shocked her sensibilities to the core and she found herself disgusted. She sighed, taking Wade in her arms and breathing in his sweet scent. Sometimes it was best to avoid trouble than to charge into it headfirst.

Slowly, Rhett stood up. He gazed down at her worried green eyes, impressed as always with their clarity, and the fringe-like silkiness of her black lashes. Her mouth, the same expressiveness of which he could see in her son, was so very lovely, in need of a kiss. A kiss from him - not from her amorous but inexperienced husband, nor from that wooden-headed excuse for a man that was Ashley Wilkes.

She stood up next to him, Wade still in her arms but snoozing softly, his cries from the adults' outburst quieted. "Thank you for seeing about him," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

"It was nothing," he replied.

She felt his arm tighten at her back as he peered down at the baby, the look in his eyes one of absolute adoration - as if she was his wife and Wade were his son. In a moment which she attributed to madness, she felt her body lean back against his, and her face turn upward, her lips parted. His own lips lowered, meeting hers in a vivid, open-mouthed kiss, the force of which betraying his desire for her. Fighting desperately against her own body, she tore away and staggered backwards, which awoke Wade and caused him to mewl loudly.

"Scarlett, I -"

"No," she shook her head firmly. "No." Wade firmly in one arm, her open palm cracked against his cheek. "I am not that sort of woman."

"I didn't mean to imply that, Scarlett, I -"

"You're a lowdown vile - everyone was right and -"

"And Ashley wouldn't have done as much?" Rhett said through gritted teeth. "Or hasn't he? Or haven't you? Far be it for me to imply such about a gentleman and a lady, Mrs. Hamilton. And I certainly did not mean to make an overture where it was not invited. Believe me when I tell you that it will not happen again."

"It certainly will not."

He laughed hollowly. "No, it will not. Until you ask."

"That will never happen."

"You might. One day." He moved toward the door, but halted at the sound of a louder and more piercing cry from Wade. "That one means that he's wet."


End file.
